


Return To You

by StarFromPhoenix



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-16 13:47:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 47,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18095495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarFromPhoenix/pseuds/StarFromPhoenix
Summary: According to Greek mythology, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs, a head with two faces and one soul, Zeus, fearing their power, split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves.This is the story of two halves of one soul finding their way back to each other.I did not meet him,I recognized him.L’amour me ravage___________________________Thank you to Erato Muse for thinking up this concept and all the wonderful people that wanted this story written! It was meant to be a one shot but WHO AM I KIDDING! I don’t know how to write a short story...I’m sorry for the heartache in the first six chapters... (grab the tissues!) but as you all know: I only know how to write happy endings!Enjoy!





	1. Helios & Oliatos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“And when one of them meets with his other half, the actual half of himself, whether he be a lover of youth or a lover of another sort, the pair are lost in an amazement of love and friendship and intimacy, and one will not be out of the other’s sight, as I may say, even for a moment: these are the people who pass their whole lives together; yet they could not explain what they desire of one another.”_   
>  **_Symposium_  
>  **   
>    
>  **\- Plato, 375 BC**

_**Greece - 370 BC (Classic Greece)** _

 

“Master Helios!” Came a rushed voice. 

Helios looked up from the scroll he was reading, annoyed. “You would disturb me?”

The slave dropped to his knees at the sound of displeasure in his master’s voice. “Please, I beg your pardon master but there is a problem with the slaves. I fear one may take another’s life.” 

Helios raised his eyebrows. “What do you speak of?”

“Please master, a slave came bearing the fruits you paid for but Cephissos swears the slave stole some.”

Helios got up, concerned at what was happening. A master was responsible for all his slaves and all lives were sacred. If his slave took the life of another slave, he would have to face proper punishment. “Show me,” Helios said motioning for his slave to get up.

They walked outside, and Helios could hear the commotion from the moment he stepped outside his home. He came upon a group of his slaves, the ones that tended his livestock and land and saw that three of them were holding a man down on his knees. Helios approached them.

“What is the meaning of this?” He asked in a booming voice. 

Everyone was suddenly quiet and his slaves dropped to their knees, still holding the man down. Now on their knees, he could see the man he did not know was significantly taller than any slave he had.

“Master please,” Cephissos said. “This slave has stolen from you.” 

“I’ve done no such thing!” The unknown man said.

Helios nodded. “Release him,” he said. His slaves did as he instructed. The man looked up and Helios was struck by the blue of his eyes. They were beautiful. His hair was fair, almost golden, he was tanned, his skin as golden as his hair. “Up,” Helios said. Although the man was not his slave, he was still a lesser citizen and obeyed. He stood up. “What is your name?” Helios asked. 

“Oliatos,” the man answered in a deep voice. 

Helios nodded. He looked at Cephissos. “Why do you accuse him of stealing?”

“Master, your order for fruit has always been the same. You handed me the list and the coin and I took it to Metrophanes’s farm and this slave took the list you had given me. He said he would take care of it.” 

“And I did!” Oliatos said. “I read the list and got it ready.”

Everyone stood silent. “You can read?” Helios asked intrigued.

“Yes,” Oliatos said, as if instantly regretting the words he had uttered. He went to the basket that held the fruit he had brought and took out the papyrus scroll that was tucked in there. He handed it to Helios.

He read his own writing and suddenly saw his mistake. “Ciphassos,” Helios said. 

“Yes master?” 

“The mistake was mine,” Helios explained. “This man has not stolen anything from anyone. I asked for less than I normally do.” Helios looked at Oliatos. “I hope there are no hard feelings between those of my household and you. It was an honest mistake and they were just acting as they have been taught.”

“None at all,” Oliatos said.

Helios looked at his slaves. “Ciphassos.”

Ciphassos stood up. He looked angry. “Apologies,” he said to Oliatos. It was obvious he was angry he had to apologize.

“Alright,” Oliatos said.

“Leave us,” Helios ordered and his slaves left. It was just Oliatos and he then. “How did you learn to read?” He asked. Slaves were never taught to read.

Oliatos looked into Helios’s sage green eyes. He towered over him, being almost a head taller. “I was not always a slave.”

“What were you then, before?” Helios asked.

“It does not matter anymore. I am a slave now. I must go. I have more fruit to deliver,” he said. He bowed in respect to Helios, turned and walked off. Helios watched him as he climbed his cart and took off. 

 

* * *

 

The following day Helios made his way to Metrophanes’s farm. He had thought of this all night and had made up his mind. Once he reached his farm, Helios made his way to the home while his slave stayed with his cart.

Helios waited by the entrance after knocking on the door and was surprised when Oliatos opened the door. “Oliatos,” Helios said with a smile. “I wish to speak to Metrophanes.”

Oliatos looked at him confused. “I hope this has nothing to do with what happened yesterday. None of it was any fault of mine.”

“I know. No, it’s not about that.”

Oliatos nodded and showed Helios to a breezy sitting room. He was there a moment before Metrophanes entered.

“Helios!” He said happily. He came and they reached for each other, taking hold of each other’s elbows and smiled as they greeted each other warmly. Helios and Metrophanes had known each other years, since their youth. They were now neighbors, owning land beside each other. “Had I known you were coming I would have prepared some meats!”

“No need, no need. I apologize for coming unannounced. I don’t plan to stay long,” he said. He looked Metrophanes in the eye. 

“Very well,” he said gesturing for Helios to take a seat. As they did a slave came in with a tray with some fruits and another with a pitcher and two cups. Helios took some drink and fruit, as it would be rude to refuse. After a moment of friendly conversation, Metrophanes inquired about Helios’s father and Helios asked of Metrophanes’s wife and daughters, he finally spoke of what he came here for.

“Your slave, Oliatos, where did you buy him?”

Metrophanes looked Helios over and smiled. “Ah, from a slave trader from Thessaly.”

Helios nodded. “I wish to buy him.”

Metrophanes stroked his beard. “He is an asset. He can read and write and that helps me with my trades and business.” 

“How did he learn to read and write?” Helios asked, intrigued.

“I didn’t ask. I’m sure the slave trader did not know because he did not charge more for it. But I do know Helios, as do you -“

“I am prepared to pay more,” Helios said.

Metrophanes saw he was serious. Had it been someone else, he would have taken advantage of the situation and would ask for the price of two slaves, maybe even three. Oliatos was not only educated but big and strong so when he wasn’t helping with the business end of things he was picking fruit. He was like an employee and a slave. Helios was a good man though, and Metrophanes, who was shrewd, was not greedy and he liked Helios.

“Alright. Give me the price of one and half slaves then and you can have him.”

Helios smiled and took out his bag of coin. He had come prepared to pay the price of three slaves. They exchanged coin and shook hands. Metrophanes then called Oliatos.

“Helios will be a good master,” he told Oliatos after he informed him of what had happened. Oliatos only nodded as he had no say in the matter.

 

* * *

 

Helios looked Oliatos over as he showed him his room. He had been quiet the whole way to his home and he was worried Oliatos was maybe upset Helios had bought him. 

“This will be your room,” Helios said as he showed Oliatos the small room with a pallet and straw mattress in one corner. It had several blankets and beside it a basket with clothing for Oliatos.

“This is... more than I’ve had. Thank you,” he said and suddenly looked upon Helios with kind eyes. 

Helios was pleased and smiled. “Of course,” he said.

 

* * *

 

For the first couple of weeks, Helios let Oliatos work with the other slaves. He helped with the livestock and the crops and ran errands for him. He noticed he was well liked and very quickly blended in with all except Cephissos, who seemed to hold a grudge against him, although if Oliatos noticed he didn’t act on it and treated Cephissos with the same respect he treated the others. In listening to him talk, Helios also noticed Oliatos had a bit of an accent when speaking Greek. It was hardly noticeable but there. Helios wondered about him.

It was during his third week there that Helios called Oliatos to his room. “I know if certain skills are not practiced frequently, we loose the ability to perform them,” he said. He showed Oliatos some scrolls he had. “You may read these at any time,” he said. He also pointed to a table in his room. “You may also practice writing any time you wish,” he said. 

Oliatos looked thoroughly surprised. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

Helios nodded. “Of course,” he replied. He looked at Oliatos. Helios knew he found him attractive. He had bedded slaves before and would not really worry if they felt comfortable doing so or not, they were his property after all. Somehow though, he felt he wanted Oliatos to like him. It was a silly notion, but regardless, Helios couldn’t help but feel it.

“You can come here any time,” he said softly. “My home is your home.” 

“It is not,” Oliatos said taking a small step back. “I am a slave and you are my master. None of this is mine, you could sell me tomorrow as easily as you bought me.”

“I shall do no such thing!” Helios said and even he was surprised at the emotion in his voice. Oliatos looked at him in surprise. He cleared his throat. “I... I find you are a great asset to my household. I will not sell you.”

“Your household ran quite smoothly before my arrival,” Oliatos said and Helios noticed the slight smile on his lips and the way he was gazing at him. 

Helios stood up straight. He would not be rendered nervous by a slave, but he could hardly ignore the feeling of nervousness in his stomach. Oliatos was extremely handsome and had such beautiful blue eyes. “It did yes. But it’s better now,” Helios said and reached up and stroked his cheek. As a salve he knew Oliatos would not move away, but again Helios wanted him to want this. “Is this alright?” He asked.

“You are really asking?” 

“Did you not hear me ask?”

Oliatos smiled. “It’s alright.”

Helios nodded and lowered his hand. He didn’t want to push it. “If you ever require more to read let me know, I can acquire scrolls anytime I wish.”

Oliatos nodded. “Thank you,” he said.

 

* * *

 

In the following weeks, Oliatos would come and ask Helios if he could have something to read. They seemed to meet in Helios’s room mid morning. Helios would sometimes, stroke his face again, a hand would rest on his muscular arm at times, finger would graze as scrolls were exchanged but Helios went no further.

One morning, Oliatos came, mid morning as usual, but this time he brought a scroll with him. Helios looked up and smiled. “What have you got there?” He asked. 

“Something I’ve written,” Oliatos said softly.

“Is that so?” Helios asked smiling. He walked to Oliatos and took the scroll from his hand. He opened it and read it. “Tonight I lay and think of deep green pools I wish to drown in. Tonight I think of nothing but his eyes. But tonight I lay alone.” 

Helios looked at him. “Do you like it?” Oliatos asked stepping closer to Helios. Helios felt his breath leave him. He simply nodded. “As my master you can command me to your bed and I could not refuse,” Oliatos whispered.

“But I do not wish to command you,” Helios found himself saying, as if he could not utter anything else but the truth to the man in front of him. “I wish for you to come willingly.”

“I am willing,” Oliatos said and took Helios’s face in his hands.

They looked into each other’s eyes a moment and then they leaned in and kissed. Helios had wanted this from the first day he had met Oliatos. He was like no one he had ever laid eyes upon and his beautiful blue eyes had haunted his dreams in the nights since, even more still since Oliatos had been under his roof. 

“I have never laid with a man before,” Oliatos whispered and Helios heard a slight shaking in his voice. 

He looked upon him. “Then why -“

“It’s you. Your kindness, your beauty, your eyes,” the other said in a rushed tone, as if wanting to utter the words before he lost his courage. “You came back for me...” he continued, more relaxed now. “Maybe it was a silly notion, but a part of me felt wanted. I do not understand it myself.”

“Maybe we are not meant to understand?” Helios murmured running his hands up the tanned arms of his slave. His hands looked so pale against his skin. “And yes, I did want you. I wanted you then and I want you now.”

Helios led Oliatos to the bed and watched as he disrobed. His body was muscular and a thing of beauty. He saw he was becoming aroused. Helios smiled as he climbed on top of him and their kisses became hard and rushed. Oliatos pulled Helios’s chiton apart at the shoulder. He slid his rough hand down Helios’s pale chest. Helios enjoyed the roughness of his touch. It felt manly. He felt a stirring down below. 

Oliatos noticed as well and smiled. “Show me what you wish for me to do,” he said with a smile that said he already knew what Helios wished him to do, but yet, he wanted to be commanded. He wanted to hear what Helios desired. 

“Is this truly your first time with a man?” Helios asked, straddling Oliatos. The man brought his hand up to Helios’s face, who closed his eyes and kissed the rough palm. 

“Yes,” Oliatos repeated. “But you are so soft and delicate, it is most appealing to me,” he said with honesty in his eyes. 

Helios grinned. “I should be offended. A man should not be soft or delicate.” 

“Please, don’t be,” Oliatos said and pulled Helios down onto him. Kissing his lips, face, jaw and down his neck and then administering soft licks and gentle bites. Helios smiled at the feel of it all. He had been with several men, but nothing had felt like this. Oliatos’s lips burned on his skin and he felt an excitement he had never felt before.

Helios moaned as Oliatos disrobed him completely and their naked bodies were finally fully against each other. Helios moved his hips back and forth, the length of Oliatos’s erection rubbing on his. “I will not command you what to do,” Helios told his slave as he wrapped his arms around his neck, his lips grazing his ear. “I want you to do what you desire. Let your desires guide you.”

Oliatos let out a guttural groan at the words spoken and Helios saw he indeed truly wanted this. “It has been so hard holding back these days!” Oliatos said as he pushed up and pinned his master down on the mattress. “Being within the confines of your room, so close to you! Your scent all around me!” Helios was surprised at the hunger behind his words. Oliatos kissed Helios greedily. The delicious assault was exhilarating. “I wish to be in you,” he said suddenly. Then seemed to remember who he was speaking to. “If my Master wishes it?” 

Helios kissed him deeply in return. “In bed we are equals,” he said, and he meant it.

They got up and Helios produced a small vial of oil. “You have to prepare me,” Helios said.

Oliatos nodded and looked down Helio’s body. He leaned in and kissed the pale chest. Helios had always been slender and lithe. He watched as Oliatos worked his way down and then, when he came to Helios’s erection he kissed the tip, which made Helios shudder with pleasure and he gasped as Oliatos opened his mouth tentatively and began to slide Helios in. This continued for an indulgent moment. Oliatos learning how to please Helios with his tongue, seeing what made him gasp and shudder.

Helios then returned the favor. He was taken aback at Oliatos’s size. He pleased him for a moment as well and enjoyed the sounds he made. Then, not being able to wait much longer, Helios turned onto his stomach. He felt Oliatos’s rough hand slide up and down his back, over his ass cheeks and down the back of his thighs. Oliatos presseshis fingers into the soft, pale skin, as if claiming ownership. Helios enjoyed it. He liked the show of dominance, something he truly had never experienced from someone in bed.

Then, Oliatos began to work him open. He was surprisingly gentle and tender and it felt so good. “I can’t wait much longer!” Helios moaned. 

He got up on his hands and knees, Oliatos settling behind him. Again he felt the rough hands and then he felt the prodding of his erection. Helios moaned. He gripped the blankets and dropped his head between his shoulders and groaned. His cock was leaking from arousal. He felt the rough hands at his hips and slowly, Oliatos started to push inside. He was surprisingly gentle and after a few careful thrusts, he was all the way in.

They both groaned in pleasure and then their bodies worked together as Oliatos began to fuck Helios. It started slow and gentle, but the movements soon became hungrier and rougher. Helios groaned as he placed his palm on the wall against the bed, bracing himself against the sweet onslaught of Oliatos’s body against his. The movements became fevered and relentless. Helios felt Oliatos’s hands firmly grip his hips. He felt his lips and tongue on his back and shoulders and neck. 

“You skin tastes so sweet,” Oliatos said, as if forgetting himself. He moaned in Helios’s ear and he felt his hot breath against his neck. After a moment of this, their skin became slick with sweat but neither wanted to stop.

It was a long while after, Helios could feel the tensing on Oliatos’s body and he felt a rough hand travel across his abdomen and down. He wrapped his hand around the hot silken skin of Helios’s erection. Just a few strokes and his releases came with a force onto Oliatos’s hand. A few moments later, Oliatos spilledhis release inside Helios. They collapsed on the bed. Panting, blissful and in a post orgasmic haze.

Helios laughed softly when Oliatos pulled him close and kissed his neck and chest. “You are so beautiful,” Oliatos told him in a husky whisper. 

Helios couldn’t hide his happiness. He had never been made love to with so much passion. It was intoxicating.

“As are you,” Helios replied, kissing Oliatos on the chest

 

* * *

 

 

Within two weeks, Oliatos was sharing Helios’s bed nightly. It was a sweet moment in time for both. Apart from the passionate and amorous love making and fucking, they spent moments talking and discussing anything that came to mind. Helios found Oliatos to be quite smart and extremely funny, making him laugh rather frequently.

This had been going on for almost two months when one night Helios softly said he was a bit hungry and Oliatos got out of bed to bring him some fruit and something to drink.He was returning to Helios’s bedroom when Cephassos stepped out of the shadows of the hallway and blocked Oliatos’s way.

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” he said with poison in his voice. “You’re not the first slave he’s bedded and you won’t be the last. He use to take me to his bed before you showed up!”

Oliatos plainly nodded. “Step aside the master is hungry and you’re keeping him waiting,” Oliatos said firmly, walking past Cephassos. 

As he entered the bedroom he found Helios sitting up in bed. “Who were you speaking to?” He asked.

Oliatos sighed. “Cephassos grows jealous of us,” he said stroking Helios’s cheek softly. 

“What did he say?”

“Nonsense,” Oliatos replied with a smile as he leaned in and kissed Helios. He then brought the fruit he had brought to his lips and Helios took a bite and leaned onto Oliatos. He would deal with Cephassos tomorrow.

* * *

 

The following day, Helios was up earlier than usual. He walked through his home and outside where eggs and milk was being gathered when he found Cephassos. 

“Come!” Helios said motioning him to follow. He did as he was commanded. Once they were away from all the other slaves he turned, giving him a stern look and speaking with a firm voice. “I will not have you bothering Oliatos,” Helios said. 

Cephassos brown eyes widened and filled with tears. “I have fallen out of favor with you since he came onto your land!” He said. The pain in his voice audible. “I use to think you cared for me,” he said. 

“I do, Cephassos,” Helios said furrowing his brow. 

“Lies!” Cephassos said loudly with anger.

Helios struck him across the face. The slave whimpered and held his cheek. “Do not forget who you are addressing!” Helios retorted. Cephassos began to weep and Helios shook his head. He stepped closer to Cephassos and embraced him. “You must get a hold of your feelings!” He exclaimed.

“But I care for you so deeply and you have just thrown me aside! Oliatos has stolen you from me -“ 

“Enough!” Helios said. He looked into Cephassos eyes. “Do not forget I am your master and you are my slave, not the other way around. If you continue with such foolishness I will be forced to sell you!”

“No!” Cephassos said. “No! Please!”

Helios was annoyed now. He didn’t expect this defiance from a slave. “You shall remember then, that you are my slave and I ask you to act accordingly. We shall not have another discussion like this. If you displease me again you will force my hand and I shall be rid of you.” And with that Helios walked off.

 

* * *

 

Weeks turned into months and then a year passed since Oliatos has been at Helios’s home. In the time they spent together, Helios learned Oliatos had been orphaned young, and began working from a young age. He had been working at a farm when the village was attacked and all abled bodied young men and women had been taken as slaves, including him. 

“Just like that?” Helios asked. 

“Yes,” Oliatos replied.

Helios sighed. “I am sorry,” he whispered.

“I was too for years but it led me to you, so I am sorry no longer,” Oliatos whispered and eased Helios’s sadness with a lingering kiss.

 

* * *

 

Helios had been thinking as of late. He had decided in the week to come he would travel to talk to a friend of his who he knew he could ask if the freedom for a slave could be given. It was a wild idea, but Helios knew he loved Oliatos and would do anything for him. He figured he would not mention anything until he found out if there was anything he could do. Why get his hopes up until he had an answer.

 

A day before he was to leave, in the early morning, Helios was walking through his home when he became aware of a commotion outside. He walked out quickly. 

“Master!” A slave called out.

Helios rushed forward and cried out at the scene in front of him. Oliatos lay in a pool of blood while Cephassos stood above him, being held by some other slaves, bloody knife in his hand. 

“No!” Helios cried out running to Oliatos. “Fetch Metrophanes!” He called to one of his slaves. He knew Metrophanes had been schooled in treating wounds in soldiers during the war.

Helios looked up at Cephassos as he clutched Oliatos’s body, pressing his chiton to the wound, his blood turning the white fabric crimson. “What have you done?!” He cried out. Cephassos stood frozen as if in a daze. “What have you done?!”

 

* * *

 

Helios laid on the bed, Oliatos’s lifeless body beside him. Metrophanes had come but he had told Helios he had lost too much blood. Helios knew. He had known Oliatos had not been breathing by the time he had reached him.

“I hope he did not suffer much,” Helios whispered.

Metrophanes came and sat at the edge of the bed. He placed a hand on Helios’s shoulder. “It was quick, I promise.”

Helios nodded. “I loved him,” he said as he began to cry. He held onto Oliatos’s body and sobbed loudly. Metrophanes sat silent by his friend’s side. He let him grieve as long as he needed. The room began to darken as the hours went by. Helios refuses food or drink and wanted nothing but to be by Oliatos’s side. 

“How am I to go on?” He asked hours later. 

Metrophanes looked upon his pained face. “With the knowledge that you will see him again,” he said softly. Helios silent tears kept falling. “You must remember him well so his soul may enjoy the sunny pleasures of Elysium.”

Helios nodded. “And when I die, will you remember me fondly, Metrophanes, so that Oliatos and I may spend eternity together there?”

“Yes, Helios. I shall,” he said.

Helios nodded. “He will not be buried a slave. He shall be buried in my family tomb,” Helios whispered.

Metrophanes looked at his friend in surprise. “As you wish,” he said.

 

* * *

 

Oliatos was in fact buried in Helios’s family tomb. There had been a trial a few weeks later and Cephassos had been found guilty of murder and sentensed to death. This brought little comfort to Helios. He would have given all he owned to have Oliatos by his side again.

 

* * *

 

It was two months following Oliatos’s death and Helios was in his room, wondering when he would feel joy again, if ever, when he heard a faint knock at his door.

“Enter!” Helios called out. In came a young slave girl.

“Master,” she said softly. “We had the basket with Oliatos’s clothing but none of us had had the heart to go through it. We did this morning and found this,” she said stepping forward. Helios sat up and saw the girl hold out a scroll. His heart pounded in his chest as he took it and unrolled it. It was Oliatos’s writing.

“Thank you,” Helios said. The young girl bowed and exited his room, closing the door behind her. He read the scroll.

‘I shall forever be with you. In this lifetime and for eternity. If I shall come to pass before you, look upon the sky and count the stars. Those are the many ways in which I love you. And if you shall come to pass before I, I shall do the same. You are mine and I am yours. Forever.” 

Helios wept and he pressed the papyrus to his chest. “Oliatos,” he whispered softly. “I shall never love another. I shall be counting the stars until the day I return to you.”


	2. Ölvir & Eldred

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The sun I saw with trembling sight,_   
>  _affrighted and faint I was;_   
>  _for most woeful was my heart_   
>  _rent and torn with twain._
> 
> _The sun I saw, sadder never,_   
>  _when ready to wend from this world;_   
>  _like to wood my tongue did feel,_   
>  _grew my corpse all cold without._
> 
> _The sun I saw, and since never,_   
>  _after that dreary day;_   
>  _far away the waters vanished:_   
>  _cold, I parted from care._
> 
> _From my breast did fly, - then born I was -_   
>  _and hence, my star of hope:_   
>  _high it hovered, hastening on,_   
>  _never ceased it to soar._
> 
> **_Sólarlióth (The Sun Song)_ **   
>  **Prose Edda**   
>  **\- Snorri Sturluson, 1220**

**_Scandinavia - 943 (Viking Era)_ **

 

Vikings in Old English were called _wicing_ meaning ‘pirate.’

Skàney is the old Scandinavian word for Scandinavia.

 

* * *

 

Einar looked at his younger brother Ölvir and grinned. “Your first raid,” he said as he clasped the back of his neck. Ölvir was younger, 19, but he was taller. Not many men were taller than Ölvir. “The gods are smiling upon us, we have had smooth seas and will make landfall soon,” Einar said. “I am most proud of you.”

“Thank you, brother,” Ölvir said. He felt the excitement in him. It was bubbling inside him. He was really to pillage.

 

* * *

 

Eldred awoke and stretched. His older brother Selwyn was already getting dressed. “Come on,” he said. “I want to get to the water as the sun rises.” Eldred nodded and got up and dressed.

They were joined by a couple of other men from the village as they walked to the water to fish. They had been out there a few hours and the sun was high in the sky when Selwyn tapped Eldred on the shoulder. “Look,” he said.

Eldred squinted his eyes at the brown dot in the horizon. Soon more dots appeared and then they began to take shape. Eldred gasped. “It’s wicing!” He said and they hurriedly began to row for the shore.

He had heard the stories since he was a boy. They all had. The wicing would come on their longboats and raid any village they could get to. They would kill anyone they saw, burn down homes and leave a village destroyed. They also took some abled bodied men and women with them, it had been learned from the fortunate survivor. They had attacked monasteries even. No place was safe.

Once they made it to shore, Eldred, his brother and the other men began to run as fast as they could. Eldred looked back. The longships were almost upon the shore. How did they move so fast?! They didn’t have much time. “Mother can’t walk, Eldred!” Selwyn called out.

Eldred didn’t want to think. They just had to warn the village. They ran and as soon as they got close enough, Eldred, his brother and the other men yelled out. “Wicing! Wicing!”

There was panic as the villagers yelled and began to run into their homes. Eldred and Selwyn had swords and an axe but there was no point in trying to fight them... unless they had to.

There was a sudden roar and Eldred turned and his eyes widened. They were coming over the small hill and down towards the village. There were at least 50 of them. They looked huge even from far away. They were banging their weapons on the round shields and yelling.

How was that possible? How did they know? “They must have seen us running and followed us,” Selwyn said. “We led them right to us.”

Eldred pulled his arm. “Get mother,” he said.

“I’m not leaving you!” Selwyn said. “If we die... we die together brother.”

Eldred felt the dread rising but he ignored it. They ran to their home. Their father had been wealthy and they had the largest home in the village. The wicing would come here for sure. Maybe they could hide? Maybe if they stayed quiet... maybe... Eldred looked as the first of the wicing reached the villagers. The was a quick swing of a weapon and a villager slumped to the ground. They had no chance. 

They entered their home and Selwyn and he slid their table against the door. They did the same with the back door. The closed the shutters and hooked them shut. He reached for his axe as Selwyn took the sword he had.

“You go upstairs and stay with mother,” Selwyn said. 

“No,” Eldred said softly.

“Father was your age when he fought his first battle,” Selwyn reminded him. 

“A strong man of 17!” They both said and laughed. How they laughed in a moment like this was beyond them... maybe because they knew. There was a sudden bang against the door and the house shook.

Selwyn clasped Eldred by the side of his head. “No matter what happens,” he said in a rushed whisper. “Remember I love you. Mum loves you and dad will always be proud of you, Eldred. Now GO!”

Eldred ran up to his mother’s room. He pushed the dresser up against the door. 

“What’s happening?” His mother asked from her bed. She was an invalid and couldn’t go anywhere. He could not lie to her. 

“Wicing,” he said softly. He saw the terror in her eyes.

Eldred heard the crash behind him. He turned and stood in a defensive stance, his axe high. The moment the man crashed through, Eldred was there with a quick swing of his axe which hit the huge man on the throat. He pulled his axe out. There would be more coming. He got agains the wall and when the next man came through and he swung his axe at the neck again and he too fell. He watched as he died. Eldred had never seen a man die before.

Suddenly he was grabbed by the back of the head and slammed against the wall. Hard. He dropped his axe as he slammed against the wall. His vision was blurred and there was a sudden pain to his arm. The warmth that spread let him know he had been stabbed. He slumped to the floor. All he saw was the legs of the man. He saw him swiftly slice his mother’s neck. He saw the man pick up his mother’s gold necklace. He has cut her head off her body.

‘No!’ He wanted to yell. ‘That was a gift from my father!’ 

The man walked towards him and Eldred looked up but the sun coming in from the window shone bright behind him and shadows covered his features. He lifted his leg and kicked Eldred on the head and his world went black.

 

* * *

 

Eldred awoke. His wrists were bound together. He sat up. His village was in flames. The wicing were walking around. They had sacks which he knew were filled with belongings of the villagers. He saw quite a few laying dead not even 20 feet from him. He knew all their names. He looked around him. 

Mary, the baker’s daughter was sitting beside him, hands tied as well, crying. They locked gazes. “I would have rather died,” she said.

“I’m sorry,” he told her. He shook his head. “Why are we alive?” He asked.

“They mean to take us with them,” she said.

Eldred’s chest filled with dread. He suddenly felt as Mary did and wished he had died along with Selwyn and his mother.

 

* * *

 

Eldred looked out at the ocean. Mary and he had been separated. It seemed one of the wicing had taken a liking to her. He had come and spoken to her and had given her a kiss on the cheek. He had suddenly wondered why he had been kept alive. He wasn’t big or that strong like his brother or father had been. He had taken after his mother. He was slim, but not weak. He even had her brown hair and green eyes.

He didn’t understand the language the wicing spoke but he understood when the one that liked Mary came to them and pulled her on to her feet and had pulled Eldred up by the arm. He had motioned forward and led them to one of the longboats and another man had grabbed Eldred and pulled him on to the ship while Mary had been whisked away. Eldred had just been left alone and just got out of the way. He had half a mind to jump off the side of the ship but then one of the wicing had approached him. He looked young, there was still a bit of roundness to his cheeks. He was about a head taller than Eldred. He was dirty, caked in dirt and blood but Eldred had been hypnotized by his blue eyes.

He had never seen eyes so blue but yet looked so familiar, as if he had seen them every day in another life. Eldred stared at him as he spoke. He had then laughed when he had noticed Eldred staring. He had stroked the side of his head. Eldred winced in pain. He suddenly remembered he had been kicked there. The man said something else to him and then took him by the arm. Eldred winced. That’s where he had been stabbed. He led Eldred to the side of the ship and sat him down. He said something to another wicing and then he was gone. The man stood menacingly over Eldred and it was obvious he had been instructed to watch him.

 

It was several hours later, they had been at sea for a few hours when the same wicing came back. Eldred would not have recognized him if it weren’t for his eyes. His beautiful bright blue eyes. Eldred stared at them and then at him. He had washed the dirt and blood off.Eldred’s eyes widened. The young man in front of him was handsome, incredibly so. He turned and said something to the man guarding him, who then took off. Eldred saw the sides of his head were shaved. His golden hair was braided and hung down to between his shoulder blades. He had a goatee and mustache, they were a light brown but shone almost golden in the sun. He turned back to Eldred and smiled. He said something and stroked Eldred’s cheek.

Eldred was breathing hard. Did this man know? He remembered when he had spoken of it to Selwyn. He knew his brother would love him no matter what. Selwyn had talked about Cleva and how beautiful she was. Eldred had listened patiently. When finally Selwyn had asked him if he thought she was pretty, he had been honest. “Her brother is handsome,” he had whispered. Selwyn had understood, but no one else would and no one else had known.

Eldred now looked away. He was scared. The man then sat beside him. Eldred wished he didn’t find him handsome. He couldn’t stop staring at his eyes. He suddenly smiled at Eldred and the smile looked... sweet. Friendly. He put a hand to his chest. “Ölvir,” he said.

Ölvir. Must be his name, Eldred thought to himself. 

“Ölvir,” he repeated.

Eldred nodded. He pointed to himself. “Eldred,” he said.

The man laughed. Eldred bit his lip. He didn’t wish to smile. He was even more handsome when laughing. He tried to pronounce his name but didn’t quite get it. Eldred shook his head and a smile crept to his lips. He quickly stopped it. “Eldred,” he said in a clear voice.

“Eldred,” Ölvir said this time and he pronounced it perfectly. “Eldred,” He said again and reached up and stroked Eldred’s hair. 

At that point the other man returned with some bread and what looked like dried meat. He took some and took a bite then held it to Eldred’s lips. Eldred felt himself blush and by the smile on Ölvir’s face he could tell he had seen too. He tentatively opened his mouth and Ölvir fed him. Eldred was surprised at how delicious the meat was and ate it quickly. 

Ölvir laughed again. He said something. Then he put his hand on his stomach and rubbed it repeating the word. Eldred understood he was asking if he was hungry. Eldred nodded and said the word and then Ölvir took turns feeding Eldred and himself until all the food was gone.

 

* * *

 

Ölvir continued to look after Eldred. He had gotten a fur blanket and had wrapped it around him and Eldred had fallen sleep against him sometime that first night. The second day he had fed Eldred like he had the day before and this time he even offered him a fruit. But Eldred recognized it. He knew Cleva’s father grew them and he remembered Cleva and her dark hair and how Selwyn found it so beautiful and Eldred had began to cry.

Ölvir had sat beside him and placed a hand on his knee and Eldred knew he was speaking kind words by the sound of his tone but he jerked away. This man was a wicing. A murdered. He had probably killed Cleva and her family. He suddenly looked at the ship and the others out on the ocean. One of them had killed his family. Eldred suddenly stared at Ölvir.

“One of you killed my brother and my mother. One of you took the gold necklace from her as she died. Mark my words, wicing,” Eldred said with such poison in his voice that Ölvir’s beautiful blue eyes flashed with something that may have been fear. “When I find out which one of you did it, I will kill you. I swear to the almighty God, I will have my revenge.”

He had then turned his back to Ölvir. After a moment he heard Ölvir walk away. He had not talked to him the rest of the day.

 

* * *

 

That night Eldred had already fallen asleep when he felt someone wrap something around him. He opened his eyes and thought it was Ölvir. He may have been wrong.

The following day Eldred awoke and looked around. The ship was bustling. He suddenly noticed he could see land. He wasn’t sure how to feel. He was glad the voyage was over but was worried as to what might await him. 

Ölvir came to him. He had a huge smile on his face. Eldred noticed he had a crimson tunic on and had a cape with fur on the shoulders. It was held together by something with gold on it. Suddenly another man came and it was obvious this was Ölvir’s brother. He had the same golden hair, shaved head and braid down his back. He too had that cape with fur at the shoulders. No one else did though. The older man pointed his chin at Eldred and Ölvir said something and the man simply nodded and was gone. 

Ölvir came forward. “Eldred,” he said clearly and Eldred felt his eyes widen. “Hungry?” He asked in his language. Eldred remembered the word. He nodded yes and Ölvir fed him. Once he had eaten he pointed at the land was was becoming clearer. “Skáney,” Ölvir said with a wide smile.

 

* * *

 

Once the ships docked, everything went by in a flurry. There were a huge crowd cheering and Ölvir and his brother were obviously something of importance. People bowed at them as they got off the ship. Eldred watched as an older man, also with the fur lined cape, came and greeted them. Eldred was grabbed by the one who had watched him and taken off the ship. No one gave him a second glance. Eldred looked around. The air was colder than in his homeland. The homes here were all made of logs. This place was a lot bigger than his village.

He saw children playing on the street and merchants selling goods. The place was loud. Suddenly he saw a huge log home and was shocked when he was led inside.Once in there he saw Ölvir and his brother and their father, by the looks of it, but none looked back. The hall was huge. Then he was taken to the back and down several hallways. He was then led to what looked like a kitchen. Eldred wondered if he was meant to be a servant.

“Twyla!” The man called out. Eldred watched as a young girl who looked to be his age got up and came forward. The man spoke to her and she nodded and answered. She then looked at Eldred.

“Hello,” she said with a smile. “I’m Twyla.” 

Eldred gasped. “I’m Eldred!”

“Come, I will take you to your room,” she said. She had a bit of an accent but Eldred was beyond happy he had someone he could understand. 

“How did you end up here?” He asked.

“I was born here,” she said smiling.

“I’m confused,” Eldred said. “How do you speak like me?”

“My mother was brought here. Married my father and I was born. She taught me her language.”

“Oh,” Eldred said. “So you’re not a servant?”

“What is servant?” The young woman asked.

“You live here and prepare food and clean for them?”

“I live in my home,” she said. “I come and bring food from my father’s farm and the Jarl pays us for them. I sometimes sit and talk to the ladies as they cook. They teach me to make food,” she said with a smile.

“Oh,” he said. She showed him a room. Once the door was closed she opened a window and sunlight came in. “Do you know what’s going to happen to me?” Eldred asked.

She looked at Eldred. “Ölvir liked you so he brought you home with him.”

“For what?” Eldred asked, feeling suddenly scared.

“I don’t know,” she said. “But Ölvir is a good man. Many wish him to be the oldest son so he can be Jarl but Einar is older. He is good too.” 

Eldred looked at her. “What is a Jarl?”

“Ah, the man in charge of us?” Eldred nodded. So Ölvir was the son of the ruler of this land. “So this village is called Skáney and the Jarl is the King?”

“No,” Twyla said. “This is Selvagr. And Ölvir’s father is our Jarl. If you travel west then you come to Hellisdalr, they too have a Jarl,” Twyla explained. Eldred nodded. “But all the land it is Skáney.” 

Eldred nodded. “Ok,” he said understanding it better.

Suddenly the door opened and Ölvir stepped in. Twyla and he greeted each other warmly and they hugged. He spoke to her and she giggled. His cape was gone. He was only in the crimson tunic and black pants. She looked at Eldred. “He wants to know if you think he is nice?”

“I don’t even know him,” Eldred said.

When Twyla translated, Ölvir didn’t look pleased with his answer. He then said something and Twyla looked his way. “He said this is your home now and he wished I teach you our language. He also said not to run away. He said you will not go far and if he finds you ran, he will have to punish you.”

Eldred nodded. He was a prisoner then. Ölvir then took out a knife and came forward and cut the rope from Eldred’s wrists. His skin was raw from where the rope had been rubbing for days. He said something to Twyla and she nodded and excited the room. Eldred watched as Ölvir gently rubbed his wrist and then leaned down and kissed them. Eldred stood frozen. Twyla returned with a tray of fruit.

Ölvir said something and Twyla nodded. “Ölvir said you are to wash, change clothes and eat and then you are to sleep. Tomorrow come to the kitchen and find me and I will begin to teach you our language.” And with that she was gone.

Eldred’s heart beat in his chest. Ölvir smiled at him and took his hands. He led him around the bed and he then noticed there was another section to the room. There was a washing bowl and some folded cloths. Ölvir said something. Eldred didn’t understand. He reached for the shirt Eldred had on and made motions for him to take it off. He pointed to the washing bowl. Eldred understood. He began to take his shirt off. When it came time to take his pants off he looked at Ölvir who smiled and took a few steps back.

Eldred’s heart was beating. He wished he didn’t find Ölvir so handsome. He turned his back to Ölvir and slid off his shoes and then undid his pants and under garment and everything fell to the ground. He stepped out of it and took a cloth and wet it. He suddenly felt a hand on his back. Ölvir spoke but Eldred could not understand. Ölvir took the wet cloth and then rubbed it on a something that Eldred guessed was soap. He began to wash him. Eldred stood frozen in fear and amazement. Ölvir was gentle. He was whispering things and they sounded sweet even though Eldred couldn’t understand. 

Ölvir handed Eldred another soapy cloth and pointed between his legs and Eldred blushed as he washed there. Once he was clean and was standing there shivering , Ölvir pulled Eldred into his arms and kissed him on the lips gently. Eldred didn’t fight it. He wanted it. He had never kissed another man but had spent many nights dreaming of it. No one in particular, as he knew none of the boys in the village were like him, but he imagine someone big and strong and handsome... when Ölvir pulled back he smiled at the look on Eldred’s face. 

He took a larger cloth and dried Eldred and handed him clothes. It was a brown tunic and and soft undergarments. The tunic was a little large and Ölvir noticed and laughed. They walked back to where the bed was. Ölvir handed Eldred pants and warm stockings. Once fully dressed they sat and ate. Ölvir taught him the names to the food. Eldred repeated them several times, trying to memorize them. Finally once the food was eaten Ölvir gestured to the bed. 

Eldred’s heart beat and he felt himself blush deeply. Again Ölvir laughed. He shook his head. He got up, kissed Eldred on the forehead and walked out of the room. Eldred sat there a while and then walked to the bed. In spite of everything, it felt so warm, comfortable and wonderful and his exhaustion finally caught up with him. He was soon asleep.

 

* * *

 

In the days to come, Eldred fell into a routine. He would wake up, go to the kitchen and find Twyla. They would eat and then spend the day walking around town, usually buying food for the Jarl’s household as well as walking around the town while she taught him the language spoken there. Eldred was a smart boy and he picked up fast. 

He began to learn names and recognize faces. He learned simple greetings and the names of foods and animals quite quickly. Usually they then had lunch in the kitchen and more often than not Ölvir joined them. The women in the kitchen made a big fuss out of it, Eldred noticed and he even noticed how Twyla’s eyes would light up when she saw him. They had been doing this for a week or so when suddenly Ölvir began to talk to Twyla in a whispered tone. It was too low for Eldred to hear and Twyla wasn’t speaking much but nodding. Once he was done talking, Ölvir stood up and caressed Eldred’s cheek and walked off. 

Twyla and Eldred went out for a walk at her suggestion.

“What did he say?” Eldred asked as soon as they were alone.

“He wanted you to know he brought you here to be with him,” she said. 

Eldred looked at Twyla wide eyed. “Like a lover?” He asked. Twyla nodded. “But I am a man, as is he,” he said. “We don’t do that where I’m from.”

“But that is ok here,” she said as if it was nothing. “As long as he is the one that... um,” Twyla blushed. “You know as long as he does as the men do with the women!”

Eldred knew what she meant. “But he’s the son of the Jarl! He needs children.”

“And he will have them. He will marry. But his wife will know he shares a bed with you too. As long as she’s ok with it, it doesn’t matter. Maybe she will want to share the bed with you too,” she looked at Eldred with an inquisitive look.

Eldred stared at her. “What?!”

“This does not happen back in your village?”

“No!” Eldred said.

“It’s ok here,” she said with a shrug.

“Really? And you would sleep with a man that also does as Ölvir wished to do?”

Twyla rolled her eyes. “Eldred, if Ölvir wished to marry me I would say yes and he could also sleep with you! I would not care as long as I had his children!” 

“You can choose?” He asked her. 

“Yes I can choose,” she said giving him another funny look. “Everyone can choose. In fact if I liked a boy now I am old enough and I can go to his bed, but I do not want children and I wish to be married first but you don’t have to be,” she said. 

Eldred was shocked to hear of all this. “It’s so different from where I’m from,” he said. 

 

* * *

 

So life continued like this. Eldred had been there about two months and days were spent with Twyla. He practiced more and more and was getting quite good at the language there. Ölvir would have lunch with them daily. Eldred was allowed to visit Twyla’s home too and learned even more from Twyla’s mother. She had been brought here as well but she said the man who brought her had been injured and died soon after. A woman in the village had offered her work in her home and Twyla’s father was her son and they had met and fallen in love.

“You’re happy?” Eldred asked.

“Yes,” she said.

“Don’t you miss home?” He had whispered.

“My child,” had said softly. “This home now.”

 

* * *

 

It had been some four months since Eldred had been brought to Selvagr and he had become quite good at the language. Ölvir had never come back to his room and had not kissed him again. The only time he saw him was on lunch and sometimes after when he practiced sword fighting with his brother. Eldred and many others would gather and watch the brothers fight. Then Ölvir would fight others.

Eldred felt he didn’t have to hide how much he was attracted to Ölvir as the whole village seemed to be. Women of all ages gave him flirtatious glances and the men seemed to enjoy his presence. If anyone knew why he had brought Eldred no one seemed to care. Everyone just accepted him as one of them now.

 

* * *

 

A day soon after, the kitchen seemed busier than usual. “What’s going on?” Eldred asked Twyla. 

“We are having a feast. Seems Ölvir and Einar are going to sail again soon.”

Eldred nodded. He tried not to think about it as he and Twyla went and bought food. At lunch, Ölvir and Eldred mostly made small talk but Eldred couldn’t hold his tongue. “Is it true you’re leaving soon?” He asked Ölvir as they ate.

Ölvir looked up at him, surprised. “You’re speaking a lot better,” he said with a handsome half smile. 

Eldred shrugged. “You don’t talk to me much so you don’t know how good I’ve gotten.”

Ölvir laughed. “Would you wish to speak to me more every day, little one?”

Eldred blushed. “You didn’t answer me,” he said.

“You will know at the feast tonight,” was all Ölvir said.

 

* * *

 

The feast was a loud affair. It seem the whole village showed up and brought food along with the food the kitchen had made. After everyone had eaten and drank, even Eldred had a cup of wine, the Jarl stood and spoke to them. 

“It is time for another raid!” He said and the hall erupted in cheers. Eldred wondered if this had happened before they came to his village. “And now, my younger son, Ölvir, he will for the first time, man his own longship! Who’s with him?”

Again, thunderous excitement. Twyla didn’t even notice when Eldred slipped away to his room.

 

Eldred had laid in his bed crying. He thought of his family and village. They were going to do this somewhere else. The thunderous cheers were heard in his room. He was sure they could be heard all over the village. 

He wasn’t sure how long he had been laying there when a knock came to his door. Twyla was probably wondering why he had gone. “Come in!” Eldred called out. He wiped his face and was surprised to see Ölvir. “Ölvir!” He said.

“You left early. I brought wine,” he said with a handsome smile. He did indeed have wine with him. 

“No, thank you,” Eldred said.

Ölvir came and sat beside him in the bed. He lifted Eldred’s face by the chin. “Why do you cry? Will you miss me?” Eldred pulled away but stayed quiet. “Speak!” Ölvir said. 

Eldred sighed. “I’m thinking the last time you had a feast like this was before you came you my village,” he said. “To kill my brother and mother.” 

Ölvir gave him a pained looked. “I am sorry,” he said.

Eldred looked at him. “Do you know who killed them?” He asked.

Ölvir gave him a tense look. “Why? Do you wish revenge?” Eldred only stared at him. “Because if you do, it isn’t a wise thought. The berserk are bigger than you and would kill you. You would have been killed if I hadn’t saved you, remember that!” 

Eldred gave Ölvir a tense look. “And why did you save me? Because you liked me? You don’t take any interest in me anyway! So why bother bringing me here?” He said angrily, not able to control himself. He blushed the moment the words escaped him.

Ölvir grinned. “Are you upset I don’t come to your bed?”

Eldred felt his face burn. He looked away. He was panting. Was he upset? He didn’t know. This was all strange and he had been ripped from his home in such a cruel way by Ölvir who had been nothing but kind and -

He felt Ölvir pull him on top of him. Eldred was suddenly straddling him. “I have been wanting to make you mine but I did not wish for you to fear me. So I had Twyla show you around. Teach you the language and I stayed far away so I would not forget myself around you. I pretend you are not in my home at night. The thought is enough to drive me crazy. But I’m no barbarian,” Ölvir said. His lips were so close to Eldred’s. He smelled of wine. “I will not force you,” he said and then he kissed Eldred on the neck.

Eldred found himself melting into Ölvir. His heart was racing and he suddenly found his body could not be close enough to Ölvir. He moaned as Ölvir kissed down his neck. He was hard in no time and Ölvir felt it. He laid Eldred down on the bed and laid on top. He palmed his erection through his pants, almost making Eldred spill his seed in his clothing. 

“Tell me,” Ölvir said as he looked down on Eldred. “Do you wish me to take you?”

“Yes!” Eldred said without thinking and he pulled Ölvir in for a kiss, their lips crushing together. They began to undress. Eldred’s heart was racing. He looked upon Ölvir’s incredible body. He had seen him shirtless before while he practiced fighting his brother, but even then, compared to now, here so close and on top of him, didn’t compare.

Ölvir reached for Eldred’s pants and soon enough he was completely undressed. Ölvir reached for his erection. With just a few strokes, Eldred came. Öliver laughed. “Eager,” He said. He stood up and came back with a damp cloth. He handed it to Eldred and he wiped his stomach as Ölvir took off his own pants and then stood completely nude in Eldred’s room. 

Eldred couldn’t tear his eyes away from his erection. He had not seen any but his own, and he stared in amazement at the man in front of him. Ölvir climbed back on top of Eldred who he was soon becoming hard again. They began to kiss and Eldred reached for Ölvir’s hard on. He stroked him as well and he felt an incredible thrill when Ölvir closed his eyes, buried his face with his neck and groaned.

He kissed him harder and he felt Ölvir’s tongue exploring his mouth. Eldred lifted his body and his erection rubbed on Ölvir’s muscular abdomen. Eldred moaned. Ölvir stood up and went to his pants. He came back with a small vial. He opened it and poured what looked like an oil on his fingers. He sat between Eldred’s legs and looked into his eyes. “Relax,” He said.

Eldred felt his fingers rub his entrance. He tightened up. “Relax,” He said again and leaned in, leaning on his left elbow and forearm as he kissed Eldred’s lips. They were soft, passionate kisses, and he kissed down his neck. Eldred relaxed and felt Ölvir slide a finger in him slowly. He gasped and grabbed Ölvir’s forearm. He whimpered as Ölvir moved in him. He then added a second finger and Eldred moaned at the gentle burn he felt.

Soon he found his body moving to Ölvir’s hand, seeking pleasure from it. “Yes, you like this?” Ölvir asked.

“Yes,” Eldred said almost lost in ecstasy. He suddenly craved more. He pulled Ölvir to him. “I’m ready,” he said.

Ölvir grinned. “Not yet,” he said and added yetanother finger. Eldred moaned and whimpered. He pushed up and sucked Ölvir’s neck. He moaned in pleasure and Eldred felt that deep thrill again. He wished to please him. Finally, after what felt to Eldred as an eternity, Ölvir slid his fingers out and climbed in between his legs.

Eldred stared into those incredible blue eyes. All these months of staring at them across the table at lunch and sometimes as Ölvir practices his fighting skills they would lock gazes. Eldred had wanted and even wished for more and had yes at times even felt angry, wondering when this would happen and now it was and it was more amazing than even he could have imagined.

“Do you want to turn on your stomach?” Ölvir asked. 

“I want to you look at your eyes,” Eldred said softly.

Ölvir chuckled and leaned over Eldred, covering his whole body with his. “Is that so, sweet thing?” He asked.

He began to kiss Eldred again. These were different than before. These seemed filled with more than passion and desire and they left Eldred breathless. Before he knew it, Ölvir had slid his arm under the small of his back and had tilted his hips up and was poised to enter Eldred. He laid back in bed and stared up at Ölvir, he felt as if his whole body was on fire.

“Make me yours,” he whispered and Ölvir complied. He slid in, his free hand clasping Eldred’s wrists together above his head and then he slid out just to slide in again, deeper. Eldred gasped and moaned at all he felt. He stared up at Ölvir, his eyes holding him captive as he opened his body, fully, pushing his pulsing erection all the way in. Eldred and Ölvir looked at one another as their bodies joined as one. The world dissolved around them.

Ölvir began to move inside Eldred. He wished to be careful and take his time, he knew this was Eldred’s first time, but the wanting he had been suppressing the last four months came forth with a fury. He was careful to not be too rough, but he could not slow his movements down. He had never wanted anyone so strongly, so deeply. He leaned in and his mouth was as ceaseless as his hips. He wanted to own and claim every single part of Eldred’s body. The thrill he felt knowing he was the first to have him had no bounds.

Eldred moaned and whimpered underneath him. With his arms pinned above him, Eldred felt as if his body and soul were at the mercy of Ölvir and he could do nothing else but give himself completely. This went on for a long, glorious moment. Ölvir never wished to stop. He wanted to loose himself in Eldred’s body forever. He forgot himself then. “You’re so beautiful,” he said. “From the moment I saw you, I wanted and needed you. How could I deny myself such a beautiful creature as you?” He said.

Eldred was lost in ecstasy. His whole body was alive and Ölvir’s words sunk into him and took hold of him. “You have me, I’m yours. All yours,” Eldred said forgetting himself as well. All that existed was their deep need and wanting and feeling it could never be enough. They could never get enough of this for as long as they existed. 

Finally, Ölvir knew he could not go much longer. He released Eldred’s wrists and pulled him close, pressing their chests together and let go completely, fucking Eldred with reckless abandon, until they both came, together this time. They laid there panting, their bodies weak, sweaty and spent. Eldred felt as if he had no bones in his body. He hung on to Ölvir for dear life as their hearts thumped in their chests and they gasped for breath.

They finally calmed down and untangled themselves for each other. Ölvir again came back with a damn cloth and even after all they had done, Eldred blushed as he cleaned him up. “Can you stay all night?” Eldred asked quietly. 

Ölvir grinned. “Is that what you wish?”

“Yes,” Eldred whispered.

“Then I will stay,” Ölvir said. 

Eldred moved aside as Ölvir slipped in bed beside him, wrapping him in his arms. Eldred buried his face in his neck. He felt at peace... he felt at home.

“You speak of my eyes,” Ölvir whispered softly. “But yours are the most beautiful I’ve seen. The green is soothing and calming, like a vast field drenched in golden sunlight.” 

Eldred grinned. “Thank you,” He whispered.

“The gods themselves wish to lay in fields of that color green,” Ölvir continued. “And I get to gaze upon them as I wish.” 

“Yes,” Eldred replied. “Anything you wish.”

 

* * *

 

The days that followed were a blur. Eldred still spent time with Twyla and they had lunches together. Then dinner and every night Ölvir would come to him and they would rush to each other’s arms. Eldred never knew he could feel like this. Hungry, or actually starving for someone’s touches and kissed and the way Ölvir’s lips and hands travelled across his skin made him hunger for more.

Then, there was the sex itself. Ölvir was insatiable. He seemed to be just as starved for Eldred and would tell him each night of what he did that day while they were apart and what he couldn’t wait to do to him and then proceed to do it. Then they would fall asleep in each other’s arms and a peace would come over them that neither thought was possible.

 

* * *

 

As the day that Ölvir would be leaving for the raid came closer, Eldred’s thoughts began to take another course. He suddenly remembered the two men he had killed and a panic began to grow as the days went by. Finally on the night before Ölvir was set to leave, as Ölvir began to kiss and undress him, Eldred felt tears fill his eyes and spill onto his cheeks.

Ölvir stopped. “What’s wrong?” He asked, deeply concerned.

Eldred felt afraid to even utter the words. The ache in his chest seemed to almost crush him. “You must return to me,” he finally said in a gasped whisper.

Ölvir for once had no playful grin or witty remark. He pulled Eldred to him and held him lovingly, caressing his hair. “Shh,” He said softly. “Don’t worry, sweet one. I will return to you. I shall always return to you.” 

Eldred looked into his eyes. “Promise me,” He said.

“I promise,” Ölvir whispered.

They held each other a long while and fell sleep. They awoke hours later. Some of the men were already getting their ships ready. Eldred climbed on top of Ölvir, his hands stroking his erection. He slid him inside and Ölvir looked up at him with an adoring look Eldred had never seen before.

“Remember your promise,” he told him.

“I will,” Ölvir whispered. They leaned in and kissed and made love for as long as they possibly could before Ölvir had to leave.

 

* * *

 

The days without Ölvir stretched out. Eldred had asked how long he would be gone and Ölvir said there was to be a full moon in two days and he would not return until the next full moon had come to pass.

“And look at it each night, and think of me,” Ölvir had said before he had left.

“Will you do the same?” Eldred asked.

“Of course,” Ölvir had replied and then he had kissed him and left.

Eldred had known the whole village was down by the water to see them off but Eldred could not bring himself to go. He could not bring himself to cheer the departure of a longboat when it had already brought him misery. It could bring him misery twice and never return Ölvir to him.

 

* * *

 

The second full moon had come to pass and each day after, Twyla and Eldred would walk to the water after lunch. “He said after the full moon,” Eldred said on the third day they made their way down. 

“Don’t worry Eldred, I’m sure he’s alright. Ölvir is a strong warrior who’s beloved by the gods. He’s had good fortunes all his life and he will be victorious and bring back many riches and make his Jarl father proud,” Twyla said. Eldred didn’t care for any of that. He just wanted Ölvir in his arms.

 

* * *

 

It was the tenth day after the full moon and Eldred and Twyla were buying food when the excitement spread throughout the village and Eldred and Twyla ran to the water along with everyone else. There were so many longboats coming. Eldred felt he could hardly stand it. He gripped Twyla’s hand. “Where is he?!” He kept asking. “Where is he??”

Then his eyes found him. He was standing tall and proud, his men cheering around him as the ship docked. The closer he got, Eldred could see his eyes wander the crowd and suddenly they fell on him and Eldred felt as if the world stopped for just that second. The huge smile on Ölvir’s face said it all. It was then that Eldred felt his cheeks were wet with tears.

 

* * *

 

After some ceremonial nonsense was over, Ölvir rushed to Eldred, who was in his room waiting. To Eldred’s surprised he grabbed his hand and pulled him out into the hallway. 

“I have something for you,” he said. He walked Eldred down to his bedroom. Eldred looked around. It was at least three times the size of his and the bed twice as large. There were fur rugs on the floor and gorgeous fabrics hanging from the walls.

“Why do you spend nights in my room if you could be here?” Eldred asked laughing.

“Because you are not here,” Ölvir said with a kiss. He looked over Eldred’s face. “Will you come here every night?” He asked. Eldred blushed at the thought. 

“Then everyone would know,” he whispered.

“Everyone already knows!” Ölvir said laughing making Eldred blush even deeper. He walked to a small chest and then turned around. “Close your eyes,” he said.

Eldred did and grinned. For a moment his mind drifted off and he wandered what Ölvir had done and who he had killed for whatever was in that chest. But Eldred wouldn’t worry about that right now. Ölvir was back and he was safe and sound. He had returned to him as promised and nothing meant more to him than that. 

He felt Ölvir take his left and and he felt a coolness slide onto his ring finger. His eyes snapped open and he watched as Ölvir slipped a gold band on his finger.

“These were not taken,” Ölvir said softly as he showed Eldred his matching ring. “I traded for these, no blood was spilled for them.”

Eldred smiled and leaned into Ölvir and shut his eyes tightly. “Thank you,” He said softly.

 

* * *

 

Nights were then mostly spent in Ölvir’s room after that day, although funny enough, Ölvir would mention he missed Eldred’s smaller bed.

“Why do always end up all the way over there?” Ölvir would ask as he pulled Eldred to him early in the mornings. “This only happens on this bed. This is why we should always sleep in your bed.”

Eldred laughed at this but found it extremely sweet.

No one seemed to notice their matching rings and if they did, they did not care and life was pleasant for a few more months then winter came. It was cold and brutal but the village was prepared with food. There was a problem with a neighboring Jarl and Ölvir went with his father to speak to him one particularly cold day. Eldred paced the hall all evening.

“Please! Will you stop, you’re making me nervous!” Einar called out but Eldred only gave him a poisonous look. When they didn’t return that night Eldred felt almost ill. The following day he could not eat and he waited and waited until finally the Jarl and Ölvir returned. 

“Next time, your brother goes!” Eldred said once they were in the privacy of Ölvir’s room.

“But he’ll be the next Jarl,” Ölvir said. “I’m the expendable brother remember?” He asked with a charming smile. 

“Not to me, you’re not!” Eldred had said and his voice had cracked with emotion.

Ölvir’s eyes softened. “I know sweet one,” he said. He caressed Eldred’s cheek. “I love you,” he said and Eldred stood frozen.

“I love you too,” Eldred whispered back.

 

* * *

 

In the three years that followed there seemed to be a flow to life. Spring would come and the earth would thaw and then the longships were brought out. There was raiding and trading to be done. This happened four times a year and Ölvir went each and every single time and for those weeks Eldred lived counting the days and asking the gods to return him safely. Each time he came back and each time as he kissed Eldred, Ölvir would whisper to him. “I promised you, I’ll always return to you and so, I always will.”

 

* * *

 

In the beginning of his fourth winter there, Eldred found himself wanting to rearrange Ölvir’s bedroom. He had done this a few times before. It seemed to happen in winter when they were spending most of their time inside. But Ölvir had killed a bear while hunting and had gifted the skin as a rug to Eldred. He was so proud of it he wanted to show it off.

Ölvir was somewhere with Einar and Eldred and Twyla were left to their own devices. Twyla was now married and a mother to a little girl of one year of age. As they moved around the furniture, Twyla’s baby got a little fussy. Eldred and Twyla sat on the bed with her and the baby kept trying to grab Eldred’s gold chain, which had been another gift from Ölvir. 

“She likes shiny things,” Eldred said.

“Yes!” Twyla replied giggling.

“Ölvir has a chest filled with jewels. I bet we can get her something and he would not even notice!” Eldred said getting up and walking to where he knew the chest was. He had seen Ölvir go to it enough to know where it was hidden. Eldred had never been told he couldn’t go to it, but Ölvir had never had to, Eldred wasn’t nosy and he treated Ölvir’s property as his own. He was sure there were a pair of small earrings the child could have and Ölvir would not mind. 

Indeed as Eldred open it he saw several small gold earrings which he took and showed Twyla and she picked a pair for her little one to wear. Eldred returned the other pairs to the small chest and they continued to rearrange the room. 

 

Later, once Ölvir and he were in bed that night, as Eldred kissed all over Ölvir’s body, he thought then was the perfect time to let him know of the earrings.  

“Love of mine, you know I cherish Twyla as a sister and her little one is a light in my life as much as hers,” Eldred said.

“Of course, my sweet one,” Ölvir said smiling up at Eldred and caressing his face.

“So I hope it was ok, I took a small pair of gold earrings from your chest, my love, and gifted them to her. She looked precious in them.”

Ölvir sat up, looking suddenly pale. “You what?” He asked.

Eldred furrowed his brow and looked at him strangely. “I took a small pair of gold earrings, my love. They were tiny little things. I actually grabbed three pair but Twyla being Twyla chose the smallest pair. They were hardly anything. You have the box full of jewels and gold, you shall hardly miss it.”

Ölvir stared at him and shook his head suddenly smiling. “No. Of course, of course. I’m sorry my love. It’s completely fine. Anything you want. You can gift her more if you wish.”

Eldred laughed. “Alright. What was the matter with you. You looked as if you had seen Hel coming for you!”

Ölvir laughed. “No. Sorry, I heard you wrong. Don’t worry about it. Keep kissing me,” Ölvir said and Eldred readily continued.

 

* * *

 

As the days passed, as much as he wanted to ignore what had happened, the look on Ölvir’s face kept popping into Eldred’s head. Why was he so worried? What was he hiding? Eldred wondered. What was he hiding from him? 

It was maybe a complete full moon later, when the days were their shortest, and Ölvir was out with Einar, that Eldred knew he had some time alone. He walked to the small chest and opened it. It was filled with so many jewels, stones of all colors and sizes, as well as gold and silver pieces. Eldred stuck his hand in it. His hand was covered in jewels up to his wrist before he touched the bottom on the box. What could be here that Ölvir was hiding?

A sudden glint of gold caught Eldred’s eyes. It was as if he was moving in slow motion. His hand moved throught the countless jewels and wrapped around the gold necklace with the circular gold pendant. Eldred held it up. The circular pendant had an E for Eldred on one side and an S for Selwyn on the other side. It was one of kind. It was his mother’s necklace.

 

* * *

 

It took Eldred a single night to decide on what he wanted to do and about two weeks to come to peace with it. Finally, the day came that he decided to put his plan into action he got the necklace and put it on underneath his tunic.

Once they had retired for the night, Eldred brought Ölvir his wine and poured himself a cup as well, Ölvir would not be drinking alone that night. Once they had drunk their cups, Eldred knew he had to speak.

“Ölvir,” He said softly.

“Yes, sweet one?” Ölvir asked with as smile.

“I know why you didn’t want me to touch your chest of jewels,” Eldred confessed and slipped his tunic off.

Ölvir’s eyes widened. Those blue eyes he had fallen in love with. Was still in love with. “My love,” he said. “I did not in a million years imagine that our life would be this one day,” he said with emotion in his voice. “I am sorry Eldred. I am sorry I took your family. But... I also am not. If I had not we would never be here. Together. 

Eldred nodded. He felt nauseous. “I know,” he said. He grabbed Ölvir’s hand. How could the one moment that had brought him his most profound grief, also bring him his greatest joy? “I... I dealt with the same pain for I love you with all I am,” he said. You looked into Ölvir’s eyes. “When I was on the ship coming here I made a promise. I promised if I ever found out who, I...”

Ölvir nodded. “You would kill them?”

“Yes.” 

“Make it quick then.” 

He caressed Ölvir’s face. “Not that quick. I wanted you to know.”

Ölvir’s eyes widened. He put a hand to his chest. Eldred knew what he was feeling... as he was feeling it too. “The wine?” Ölvir asked. 

“Yes.”

“But you drank some too!”

“Yes,” Eldred said as he gasped. “For you see,” Eldred said as he coughed. “I could not live without you. I choose not to. So I will not.”

“Oh, Eldred,” Ölvir said. He stood and walked to Eldred. He collapsed on his knees by him. Eldred slipped down on the floor with him. “We were doomed from the start,” he said.

Eldred nodded. “I could not live knowing the truth,” he said as he coughed. He tasted blood in his mouth. “I shall roam Hel as you roam Valhöll,” he said as tears fell from his eyes.

“No sweet one,” Ölvir said. “Revenge does not send you to Hel and neither does not wanting to live without the one you love.” Ölvir was gasping for breath. “We shall roam Valhöll together and if they don’t let you in, I shall return to you. In Hel. Anywhere.”

“Promise,” Eldred asked.

“I promise,” Ölvir said and leaned in to kiss Eldred. That was the last thing Eldred felt as his eyes closed for the last time.

Ölvir gasped as Eldred rested his head on his shoulder and took his last breath. Yes. He had killed his family. He remembered the one young man downstairs. He had sliced his throat open. Then he had gone upstairs and had seen him, shaking, axe in his hand. He had grabbed him by the hair and thrown him against the wall and then he had cut the head off the woman on the bed. He then had turned and truly seen him. A frightened young boy, with the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen and had instantly fell in love, it had been just like that. He couldn’t explain it then or now. He was ready to face eternity with not one ounce of remorse for the days they had shared.

“Wait for me, Eldred,” he gasped. “I shall return to you, still.”

He then laid his cheek on Eldred’s head and took his last breath as well.


	3. Olin & Elmer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _To me, fair friend, you never can be old,_   
>  _For as you were when first your eye I eyed,_   
>  _Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold_   
>  _Have from the forests shook three summers’ pride,_   
>  _Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turned_   
>  _In process of the seasons have I seen,_   
>  _Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burned,_   
>  _Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green._   
>  _Ah, yet doth beauty, like a dial-hand,_   
>  _Steal from his figure, and no pace perceived;_   
>  _So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand,_   
>  _Hath motion, and mine eye may be deceived:_   
>  _For fear of which, hear this, thou age unbred:_   
>  _Ere you were born was beauty’s summer dead._
> 
> **_Sonnet 104_ **   
>  **\- William Shakespeare, 1609**   
> 

**_England - 1561 (Elizabethan Era)_ **

 

During this time there were no ‘doctors.’ There were surgeons and barbers. Barbers treated minor illnesses, or tried to treat more serious ailments for those who couldn’t afford surgeons. 

 

* * *

 

“Father Olin,” said the soft voice behind him. Father Olin stopped praying and turned. Father Alfred stood there. He was a kind elderly man. “We have a situation.”

Father Olin nodded and stood up.

“You are only a man of 24 and yet I put more trust in you than I other priests twice your age,” the old priest said softly. Olin looked at him, concerned. “Today, a boy was brought to the church in such a sad state. You have always been able to reach these boys. I’m sure it’s your youth, they feel it easier to trust you.” 

Olin nodded. “You wish to help them and I do as well. We are all God’s children.”

“Indeed,” Father Alfred said with a sad smile. “This one may be tough,” he said looking perplexed. “I wish for you to take care of him. For as long as you can.” 

Olin furrowed his brow. “Yes, Father,” He said.

“He was found on the streets. He was severely beaten. It seems he was selling his body for food or coin. He was found by some nuns and nursed enough but, being a young man he has now been brought to us. He’s in our spare room.”

Olin nodded. Father Alfred patted him on the shoulder. Olin walked to the back of the church where he and Father Alfred lived. They had a small spare room there. He walked to the door and quietly stepped inside. The small room was mostly dark, with a beam of sunlight coming in through a small window. Father Olin walked over and lit the lantern and the dark corners of the room filled with light. There was a small cot in one of the corners of the room, a wooden crucifix above it. Father Olin walked over and knelt by the bed. He began to pray. The small mound on the bed stirred and the person turned. 

It was the young boy. His face puffy and bruised. Olin imagined he must be in great pain. “Go away,” he said roughly.

“I’m only here to help,” Olin said.

“I don’t want your help. Don’t need your help.”

Olin nodded. “Just rest. Focus on getting better,” he said. The boy turned over, his back facing Olin. He continue to pray for a while longer and then noticed the soft steady breathing of the boy. He stopped praying after a while and left.

 

* * *

 

Olin returned daily to pray for the boy and for several days the boy kept telling him to go away. Finally he stopped and just let Olin pray, and he would sometimes read the Bible to him.

It was almost three weeks after their first encounter and when Father Olin walked into his room and found the boy sitting on his bed, eating and reading.

He looked up. “Hello,” he said, meeting Olin’s eyes.

They looked at each other for a moment. Father Olin was tall. He was in black priest gown, which was simple and tied around his waist. The boy was thin and pale. There were still dull pale yellow marks from the bruises that had healed left over.

“Hello,” Father Olin said with a friendly smile. He was happy, the boy had never initiated conversation. “How are you? Better it seems?”

“Yeah,” the boy said with a shrug.

Olin took the small chair in the corner of the room and pulled it closer to the small bed. “My name is Olin. Father Olin,” he said softly. 

The boy stared at him. He nodded. “I’m Elmer,” he said softly after a moment. Olin nodded and looked into Elmer’s green eyes. He knew the boy had been through a lot and his eyes showed it. They were the eyes of an old soul. 

“How are you, Elmer?”

“How old are you, Olin?” Elmer snapped back.

“24,” Olin replied with a smile.

Elmer looked surprised that Olin had answered. “Is it boring being a priest?” He asked. 

“No, not to me,” Olin replied. “I get to talk and interact with wonderful people and hopefully help them in a time of need.”

Elmer looked at him like he didn’t quite believe him. “So you enjoy talking to prostitutes and beggars and lying to them by telling them their lives could be better when they will never be.” 

Olin nodded. “Well, maybe sometimes we just need to believe.”

“Well, I don’t,” Elmer said without hesitation.

Olin nodded. “Can you tell me what happened to you?”

“You don’t care,” Elmer said bitterly.

“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have asked and I wouldn’t have kept coming all these last days.”

Elmer sighed. He didn’t have an argument for that. “A man paid me for something and he wanted more than he paid for and when I said no he tried to take it by force and when I fought back he beat me up.” 

Olin nodded. He had known that’s what had happened but his chest filled with sorrow hearing it all from him. “How old are you?” He asked again.

“17,” Elmer said softly. He looked a couple of years younger than that. Olin figured it was because he was so malnourished.

“What are you reading?”

“A bible. It’s boring but this is all you people have.” 

Olin chuckled. “How about I bring you something else tomorrow?” He asked. The boy still wasn’t strong enough to walk around. Sitting up on his bed was the most he had done since he had been here.

Elmer looked at him surprised. “You would do that?”

“I would,” he said.

“Ok,” Elmer said smiling. His smile changed his whole face. Olin felt happy. He got up and returned the chair. He opened the door. “Nice meeting you, Elmer,” he said softly.

“Nice meeting you too,” Elmer said not quite meeting Olin’s eyes.

 

* * *

 

The next day, Olin brought Elmer books, just as he had promised.

“Thank you,” Elmer said with another bright smile. He opened the first book and saw Olin’s name on the corner of the first page. “This is your book?” He asked, sounding surprised.

“Yes,” Olin said. “I thought you would enjoy them.” 

“I will,” Elmer said nodding. “I’ll take care of them,” he said softly. 

“I know you will. I trust you,” Olin replied.

 

* * *

 

It was maybe a month and a half later, and after making a full recovery, Olin spoke to Father Alfred about keeping Elmer at the church. He had discovered the boy was an orphan and had taken to selling his body on the streets and stealing when he had no money for food. 

“He came to the church the day after Tobias left and we were needing someone to help us maintain the ground and to run errands,” he said to Father Alfred. “The boy can read and write which is useful. Maybe it was a sign from God,” Olin said.

Father Alfred smiled. “We can give it a try,” he said.

Olin smiled and couldn’t wait to share the news.

 

Olin found Elmer outside. He had told the priests he enjoyed gardening and had taken to tending the garden. Olin watched as his pale hands dug into the dirt and planted a flower. He smiled and walked over.

“Good morning, Elmer,” Olin said cheerfully.

Elmer looked up and squinted in the sun. His face was fuller. He was still slim but had put on some weight in the weeks there and any visible sign of any past physical abuse was gone. “Morning, Olin,” he replied cheerfully. Elmer always called Father Alfred Father but the never said it to Olin but he didn’t mind.

Olin squatted down beside Elmer. “What are you planting here? Where did these flowers come from?”

“Some ladies came by and said they always bring you flowers. Figured I’d plant them today since it’s sunny.” 

Olin nodded. He couldn’t stop smiling “Elmer, I spoke to Father Alfred. If you wish, maybe you could stay?”

“Stay? Here?” Elmer asked. His shock and surprise was apparent. 

“Yes,” Olin said grinning. “When I came last year, there was a man, Tobias that helped with the grounds and did certain things around the church. He sometimes ran errands for us -“

“I can do that! I can do all that!” Elmer said and reached for Olin’s hand. His hands were covered in dirt but he squeezed Olin’s hand. He seemed to notice what he had done and let go, with a blush to his cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he said. 

Olin swallowed. “It’s alright. I’m happy you want to stay.”

Elmer nodded. “I’m almost done planting the flowers,” he said.

“Take your time. After lunch you can come with me to the market. If you wish? We -“

“Yes! Yes. I want to.”

Olin smiled again. “Ok,” he said. He got up and walked back into the church.

 

* * *

 

After lunch, they did indeed go into town. They were walking in the bustling, crowded street, Olin greeting people he recognized. Many people came to the church, seeking guidance and comfort and Olin, in his short year there, had provided a lot of that to many. 

“Lots of people know you,” Elmer said.

“Well we’re the only church around,” Olin said smiling. 

Elmer looked around. He took hold of Olin’s elbow. “Have you ever been to the theater?” He asked enthusiastically.

Olin looked at him in surprise. “No,” he said.

“Could we maybe go sometime? Do priests do that? I have always wanted to see a play...” Elmer trailed off as if embarrassed at his sudden show of emotion.

Olin’s heart warmed. “Is that what you would wish for yourself? To act in theater?”

“Yeah but poor homeless boys never do anything like that,” he said bitterly. “But I’d also be happy being  farmer. I love to plant and watch things grow.”

Olin looked his way. “You are not homeless now,” he said and Elmer looked up as the words Olin said sunk in. His green eyes widened. “As for poor, well, wealth can be measured in many different ways, not just in possessions.”

Elmer smiled. “That is true,” he said.

 

* * *

 

Elmer proved to be a reliable young man and a great asset to Olin and Father Alfred. Olin watch him grow. The youthful face became more angular, jaw more squared and handsome. His hair, which he kept quite short underneath but long on top became highlighted in gold during the summer months, when he would spend as much time as he could outside. Olin would sometimes find himself gazing at him, although he would look away as soon as he became aware of what he was doing.

He didn’t speak of this to anyone, not to Father Alfred or anyone. He wrote of him in his personal journal though, paragraph after paragraph of how proud he has of the young man Elmer had become...

 

* * *

 

It was the summer after Elmer had turned 19. Father Olin was coming home from administering the last rights to a elderly man in town. As he walked closer to the church he saw Elmer running out and running to him.

“Olin! Olin it’s Father Alfred!” Elmer said as he came running.

Olin ran forward to meet him. “What happened?” He asked, his heart thumping in his chest.

Elmer finally reached him and he grabbed Olin’s hand. It surprised Olin but there was no time to think about this. “It was getting late and he hadn’t come down for lunch so I went and knocked on his door and when he didn’t answer I went in and he was laying on the floor of his room!”

They went to the back of he church, where the small living quarters the three of them shared was. Father Alfred was on his bed, pale and breathing shallow.

“I’ll go fetch the barber!” Elmer said and ran off before Olin could say anything else.

The barber came and checked Father Alfred over. He gave Elmer a list of things to get at the apothecary and he cut Father Alfred’s arm to let some blood drain. Father Alfred awoke some time later and mumbled but he never opened his eyes. A tea was prepared of the herbs Elmer had gotten from the apothecary but Father Alfred barely drank some. The barber left after the sun had set.

Olin kneeled beside Father Alfred and prayed deep into the night. Elmer brought him food and he had a bit but all he wanted to do was pray. It brought him comfort. It was late and he noticed Elmer was dozing off.

“Elmer, you should sleep,” Olin said softly. “Thank you so much for today. I would have been lost without you.” 

Elmer looked at him with wide eyes. He hadn’t seen him look at him that way since he was a 17 year old boy. “You’re welcome,” he said. “But I won’t sleep unless you do.” 

Olin smiled in spite of everything going on. “That’s very chivalrous of you, but I don’t want Father Alfred left alone. We can take turns. Go sleep and when you awake, come over and then I’ll sleep.” 

“Ok,” Elmer said, and retired to his room. 

He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. When he awoke a few hours later, he returned to Father Alfred’s room and found Olin asleep. His head on his arms, resting over the edge of the bed, where he had no doubt been praying all night.

The pale sunlight was coming in and shone on Olin’s golden hair. Elmer had always found him so handsome and it had taken so long just for him to function normally around him. His heart still sometimes raced when he was close to him but he was able to control his voice and the shaking of his heads better. He had sometimes caught Olin looking at him and at times, at night, when he was alone, he would let his mind wander and pretend he and Olin could be together, as he wished they could be.

He was in a church, yes, and Olin and Father Alfred were priests and he knew God meant a great deal to them and he would listen and pray with them, but a sliver of him had doubt. He had suffered greatly as a child and had been abused and mistreated in horrible ways and he wondered what God led that happen to a child. But at 17, he had been picked up from the streets by a concerned villager instead of being left to die in the alley he had been found, and he had eventually been brought here, and he had been let to stay and he had met Olin who he loved so incredibly much, and even Elmer had to admit, that that in itself was a sort of miracle.

He gazed down at Olin. He looked so much younger than his 26 years of age. Elmer knelt beside him and slowly raised his hand. He wished to stroke Olin’s cheek. He had always wished to do this. His thumb softly grazed his cheek as he left his index finger trace Olin’s jaw. His hand had just fallen back onto his thigh when Olin’s eyes fluttered open. 

Olin’s eyes were the most beautiful thing Elmer had seen. They were bluer than the prettiest sky on a sunny day and they made him feel things he had not even understood at 17 but was beginning to understand now, at 19.

“You should sleep,” Elmer said softly as Olin lifted his head.

“Apparently I already have,” He said, voice hoarse. 

“Well, I mean on your bed. Proper sleep. I can make you something to eat and bring it to you,” Elmer said. The thought of taking care of Olin felt wonderful. 

“Oh, that is too much,” Olin said as Elmer helped him on to his feet.

“No, I want to,” Elmer said smiling up at Olin’s blue eyes. “Think of all the times you took care of me,” Elmer said softly.

Maybe Elmer imagined it, but a tender look seem to pass by Olin’s eyes and it made Elmer’s heart begin to race. “I would do it again, without hesitation,” Olin whispered back.

 

* * *

 

Father Alfred never recovered and passed away a Week later. In those days, Elmer did all he could to make everything easier for Olin. He also made sure food was always made. Father Alfred has been a great cook and Elmer had found out he quite enjoyed cooking as well. Usually there seemed to be so much going on, but at the end of the day, Elmer and Olin would sit for dinner and Elmer noticed the change in Olin.

He would relax and finally seem at peace. They would talk and Elmer felt really good when he made Olin laugh the night before the funeral. Elmer sat surprised but grinned a few seconds later, feeling really happy about it all.

The funeral was a somber affair and many people from the small town they lived in came to pay their respects. Once everything was over, Elmer was beginning to get things ready for dinner when Olin came to their small kitchen. 

“Elmer, thank you for everything,” he said. “I think though I will skip dinner tonight.”

Elmer nodded and watched as Olin walked away. He made something for himself and then went to his room. He had been reading for a moment when he thought he could make some tea. Maybe Olin would like some.

Once it was done he walked to Olin’s room and as soon as he reached the door, he could hear the sounds of Olin crying inside. Their bedroom doors had no locks, so Elmer stepped inside and found Olin sitting on his bed, weeping. Elmer put the tea down and crawled into bed with him and without hesitation, wrapped his arms around him.

Olin was in a white night gown, the fabric was thin and light. Elmer realized he had never seen him in anything but his black priest robes.

“It’s ok,” Elmer said, laying his cheek on Olin’s head. “It’s ok. It’ll be alright.”

They squeezed closer together as Olin wrapped his arms around his waist. It felt good. Elmer loved the feel of Olin’s body so close to his. He felt Olin nuzzle his neck, his tears wetting it. He had calmed down some, his hiccuped breaths still shaking him. But Elmer didn’t let go. He didn’t want to. He pulled him even closer and turned his body towards him more, he slid his left left leg between Olin’s body and the wall.

Olin lifted his head and looked down at him. Elmer caressed his tear streaked face. It happened quite suddenly. Their lips were suddenly on each other’s. Olin’s lips were salty with his tears. They were warm and soft and kissed Elmer with such hunger, it left him breathless.

Olin climbed onto his knees and laid his body on Elmer, between his legs. Elmer had done this before, but it had been almost three years and never with anyone he loved, for he knew he loved Olin. He quickly undid his pants and pushed them down, kicking them off quickly. He pulled the ribbons on his shirt loose, the pale chest exposed. Olin’s beautiful blue eyes were suddenly staring at him in wide eyed innocence. Elmer pulled him down and kissed him. His hands quickly lifting Olin’s night gown up and off him, over his head and suddenly their naked bodies were pressed together. 

“Elmer,” Olin whispered.

“Shh,” Elmer said soothingly. He wanted this. He knew Olin did too. He didn’t want to break the spell they were under. He reached down and stroked Olin who shuddered and collapsed on him. Elmer’s heart raced. His racing heartbeat was all he heard.

“Elmer,” Olin whispered again. It was a moan and the way he gasped was otherworldly.

“Shh, it’s ok. I want this. I love you,” Elmer said.

Olin suddenly pushed up and Elmer saw the inner struggle in his eyes but Elmer kissed him again, licking his lips and sliding his tongue inside his mouth. He knew Olin had never felt any of this. He knew this was all new to him. He knew how intoxicating this would all feel.

Elmer had learned a few things during his times on the street. He knew how to please. At no time had he gotten any pleasure over the things he did or were done to him. Nothing has felt like this. Nothing has been this amazing. This good. 

Elmer spit in his hand and stroked Olin, who shivered in pleasure at his touch. He circled his head with his thumb and spread the wetness down the shaft of his erection. Elmer turned his body. He lined Olin up with his body, wetting his entrance with his tip. Olin again gasped and seem to pull away. 

“It’s ok,” Elmer said reaching for Olin’s right arm. He wrapped it around his chest, pressing his back to Olin’s chest. He turned his face and kissed Olin’s jaw. “Please,” he whispered. “Please. I love you. So, so much. I need you. Please, Olin. Please!”

The thrust in was harder than Elmer expected. The intensity behind his movements was passionate. The noises he made and the way he held Elmer tightly... Elmer had never felt this way. It hurt for a moment and then his body adjusted. Elmer was on his hands, Olin was squeezing him so hard, his chin on Elmer’s shoulder, his cheek, right up against his, he could feel the scratch of his stubble against his own cheek. He felt completely engulfed by Olin’s large warm body. Elmer closed his eyes and took immense pleasure in all that was happening.

Elmer reached down and pushed Olin’s left palm from his stomach down until he understood and clasped Elmer’s erection. He stroked a few times and then Elmer came. Soon after Olin came as well.  

They laid there panting for a while. Finally, Olin softened and slid out of Elmer. He sat up and they stared at each other. Olin’s blue eyes were wide. Elmer took his shirt and wiped them clean, Olin watched him. 

“I had never...”

“I know,” Elmer said. He got up and opened Olin’s wardrobe. He took out a clean nightgown and brought it to Olin, even helping him put it on.

“Is that...” Olin began. “When men use to pay you, is that -“

“No,” Elmer said. He took Olin’s face in his hands. “It was nothing like how this was. Nothing at all.”

Olin nodded and Elmer leaned down and kissed him deeply. Olin kissed back. Elmer straddled him, he was still undressed. Olin gazed at him 

“You are so beautiful,” he said. His voice was thick with emotion. “In all the paintings I have seen of angels none have compared to you,” Olin spoke with such deep honesty that it made Elmer blush.

Again, Olin pushed him down and to his surprise, began kissing his all over his neck, softly. He took his time. He kissed and caressed Elmer all over. At times Elmer laughed when he kissed and touched a spot which was ticklish to him. Then, and Elmer truly wasn’t expecting it, he took Elmer in his mouth. Elmer gasped and groaned in pleasure. He propped up on his elbows and gazed down upon Olin, he could hardly believe what was happening even as he was seeing it and feeling it. This was more incredible than any fantasy he had let himself have. He had hardly let himself imagine Olin touching him, but this... this...

Elmer lasted a while, having just had orgasmed not too long ago, but Olin seemed to not mind. He slid Elmer out of his mouth and kissed his inner thighs. He then took him back in, sucking him a while longer, then returned to kissing his body. He did this time and time and time again, until Elmer came. He swallowed all of it. Then Elmer climbed on top of him and did the same. He also took his time and kissed every inch of his body, every inch of his gorgeous golden skin, and then swallowed his release when he came a second time.

 

* * *

 

Elmer awoke first. He remembered Olin had not eaten the night before and the tea had turned cold and remained untouched. He got up and went downstairs and began to cook. He was practically done when Olin came downstairs. He was in his priest robes again.

Elmer glanced over his shoulder. “Good morning!” He said cheerfully.

“Good morning,” Olin answered softly.

“I figured you’d be hungry,” Elmer said.

“Yeah, I am,” Olin said.

Elmer served them both. He sat down across from Olin as he normally would. Olin was staring at him. Elmer felt his heart sink.

“Don’t. Don’t say it was a mistake. Please,” he said.

Olin shook his head. “Elmer,” he began.

“No! No. Listen it was all me ok! I’m the one to blame!”

“What?” Olin asked furrowing his brow.

“I know Father Alfred was like a father figure to you and we had just buried him and you were mourning and I took advantage of that. I saw you crying and I -“

“No. No you did not. What we did I had been wanting to do for so long and I...” Elmer sat in silence as he looked at Olin who’s eyes filled with tears. “You’ve gone through so much and I...” 

Elmer shook his head. “You mean when I was homeless? What I did?”

“Yes,” Olin said swallowing. “I’m sick aren’t I?” 

“No,” Elmer said softly and reached across the table. He caressed Olin’s hand and then laced his fingers with his. He was so happy when Olin let him. He didn’t pull back. “What happened last night was... perfect. I’ve never been with someone I love before.”

He saw Olin blush and it made him smile. “I’m not worthy of your love,” he said. 

Elmer chuckled. “You’re the best person I know.” 

Olin gave him a faint smile. “And you’re the strongest person I know.”

“And I...” Elmer said softly. “If it doesn’t happen again, I’ll understand.”

 

But it did happen again. Several times. Elmer had inquired what would happen after Father Alfred’s death. “Can we stay here together and live happily ever after?” He had asked innocently and it had made Olin laugh.

“I will send word to the Bishop in a few days and let him know of Father Alfred’s passing. Each church always needs two priests. He will find another priest to come over and take Father Alfred’s place,” he had said as he stroked Elmer’s hair. Elmer liked how he did that. It was so soothing.

The Bishop’s letter went off and it was five weeks after that they received word from the Bishop saying he would be arriving soon after his letter reached them.

In the six weeks before the Bishop came, Elmer saw another side of Olin. The side that he figured would be the man he would be if he had been something else but a priest. He saw his passion and desires and it seem to unleash a passion for everything he enjoyed. They ended up going to a play in the larger town and came back late at night, having been given a ride by a farmer that recognized the priest. Even that had been wonderful.

Elmer wondered if Olin ever regretted it. If he did he never showed it. He seemed happy and that was enough to make Elmer happy. The day they received the letter from the Bishop Olin was quiet at dinner.

“Are you regretting this?” Elmer asked.

“No,” Olin said. “I wish we had more time,” he said. He looked into Elmer’s eyes. “I love you too,” he said quietly.

Elmer had soaked it in. It was the most wonderful thing he had ever heard.

 

* * *

 

When the Bishop arrived, they where more or less ready for him. He came in the evening close to dinner time and Olin had introduced him to Elmer, who didn’t like the fact they had to kiss his ring. Elmer wanted to make a good impression for Olin’s sake and so knelt and kissed his ring.

They sat down for dinner and Elmer felt proud when the Bishop complimented his cooking.

“Elmer is wonderful,” Olin said. “He grows many of the vegetables and is a wonderful cook.”

The Bishop seemed pleased. It wasn’t until after dinner that the he gave them the news he came in person to share. “Olin, instead of assigning a new priest I am assigning two. When they arrive, which should be in the next ten days, you are to come to London and join a few other young priests I’ve gathered. You shall be sent across the ocean for mission work...” 

Elmer heard no more. Mission work? Mission work? What did that mean?

The Bishop wished to continue talking to Olin so Elmer cleaned everything up and went to his room. He stayed in there alone. Olin and he would go back and forth between their rooms and Elmer had forgotten how it felt to not have Olin’s warm body beside him at night. He hardly slept. 

The next morning he got up and made breakfast and he was relieved when the carriage for the Bishop arrived soon after breakfast. The moment he left Elmer question Olin. 

“What is mission work? What does that mean?” 

“I’m to go and meet people and spread the word of the Lord. Convert them. Help build churches.” 

Elmer nodded. “I’ll just go with you,” he said. This has never crossed his mind. He just figured Olin and he would stay in the church forever. Happy. Together. 

Olin gave him a mournful look. “You can’t,” he said softly.

 

* * *

 

They ended up having 12 more days together before the two new priests came. Elmer somehow still believed it wouldn’t happen. He didn’t care what the other priests thought, and went to Olin crying in the middle of the night before the day he left. He couldn’t stand being away from him. The next day, as his tears were again ceaseless, the other priests seem to take pity on him and gave him consoling looks. When the carriage arrived for Olin he walked out with him.

“Will you write? Will you come back for me?” Elmer asked.

“I will try and I shall return to you. I promise. Please, please, don’t be sad.”

Elmer didn’t know how he couldn’t be. They hugged a final time and then Elmer stepped back and watched as the carriage carrying Olin left. He stood there and stared until it became nothing but a speck in the horizon.

 

* * *

 

**_May, 1588_ **

 

Olin stepped out of the carriage and looked upon the church he had told the Bishop he wished to spend his time at, now that his mission work was complete. It had been 27 years since he had left here. Now he was back. It looked the same. He almost expected Elmer to come running down the steps. He sighed at the memory.

Olin walked the grounds on his first day back. The church itself had not changed much, neither had the living quarters. The small vegetable garden Olin had started was larger and had more vegetable. It was well tended. The priest there had told him a farmer in town came once a week to tend the garden. Olin nodded.

“How many years have you been here?” He asked. 

“Three,” the priest had replied.

“And the priest I am replacing, how long was he here?”

“Six years,” was the response.

Olin nodded. “There was a boy the worked in the church 27 years ago when I was here. I wonder what became of him.” 

“Oh I would not know Father Olin,” said the priest. “There’s a nice lady what comes and cooks for us but she leaves in the afternoons and then the farmer comes and tends our small garden every Saturday. Maybe if you walk into town? They may know what became of him.”

Olin nodded. He may. He retired to his room, not bothering to have dinner. He was tired. He was 53 now and his body felt it.

 

* * *

 

The next day, the lady the priest spoke of came. She picked vegetables for their lunch and dinner and cooked for them. She saw Olin before anyone else. 

“Oh, good morning, Father,” she said.

“Good morning,” Olin replied. They made small talk. She had been here four years. She took over the lady who did this before her. She knew nothing of the boy from 27 years ago.

Olin nodded. He would be giving the Sunday sermon. Maybe he would be able to talk to some of the locals and see who had been here and maybe hope someone would remember Elmer.

 

* * *

 

It was the third day Olin was back, the Saturday. The lady came and cooked and Olin had eaten breakfast and was slowly walking the grounds when he saw who he figured was the farmer in the vegetable garden. Olin slowly walked over. He could only see his back and Olin thought maybe he should just let him be. He didn’t need to question this poor soul as well did he? It had been 27 years and maybe he should just accept the fact he would never see those sage green eyes again.

He walked closer and thought he would merely greet him. “Greetings, Farmer,” Olin said cheerfully. 

He saw the farmer tense momentarily and then slowly turn to him. Olin froze. It was him. Olin felt as if his heart stopped. He didn’t even think about what he was doing. He walked forward and just wrapped him in his arms. He suddenly realized what he had done and stepped back.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he said. 

Elmer was staring at him in surprise still, as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. “You came back,” he said softly. 

“I promised you I would,” Olin said.

 

* * *

 

Once Elmer was done, he came inside and he and Olin talked a long while. Elmer had married and had three children. Two sons and a daughter. 

“I’m so happy for you,” Olin said.

“Are you?” Elmer asked.

“All I want is for you to be happy. It was all I had ever wanted,” Olin said and Elmer knew he was speaking the truth.

 

He wasn’t only coming on Saturdays now, but Elmer came at least one other day, if not two during the week. Once Olin had been back about two months Elmer asked him if he may want to come to his home, have dinner with his family.

“I’m sorry I can’t,” Olin said without thinking. Elmer looked surprised. “I am so sorry,” Olin said. Elmer merely nodded. He never asked again.

 

* * *

 

Fall came and it then turned into winter and the garden was left for spring then the earth would thaw and new vegetables could be planted. Elmer stopped coming in November and Olin figured it was because he had no business during the winter in church. Olin never saw him at the services on Sunday. There were plenty of women that came with their children and he often wondered which one of them was Elmer’s wife.

 

It was the first week of December, when a young woman came to the church. “Please Father,” she said through tears. “My father is ill and my mother wishes his last rights to be given.”

Olin prepared himself as quickly as possible and left with the young woman who had come in a carriage. The ride wasn’t too long. The sun hadn’t set yet as they reached the home and Olin looked upon it. It was quite large and it was obvious the family was well off. He walked inside and found a woman with you teenage boys. She was in tears.

“Oh, thank you father. He’s been ill for almost a month now,” she said crying. “We had a surgeon and barber by but nothing has helped and he’s not getting any better. He’s upstairs.”

Olin nodded and walked upstairs and down the hall. He entered the bedroom and his heart sank.

“Elmer,” he whispered as he walked to the bed and knelt down beside it.

Elmer’s eyes fluttered open. “You’re here,” he whispered.

“I’m here,” Olin said. He took his hand. They were speaking too softly for anyone to understand. Olin stroked the hair on his forehead back

“I had wished to call for you earlier but you had said you never wished to come.”

“I am sorry,” Olin said.

“Do not be. You’re here now. Will you stay? Will you -“

“Shh,” Olin said and he was reminded and the night Elmer had consoled him. “I will stay as long as you wish for me to.”

“I’m glad you returned. Once I go, I will wait for you again. Take your time,” he said with a sweet smile. 

“I was always going to return to you,” Olin said. “I love you.” Elmer turned his green eyes to him and for a moment they looked as bright as they always had. They smiled at each other.

Olin held his hand and prayed and caressed his hair. Elmer didn’t last though the night. In the end, though he looked peaceful and after he took his final breath Olin leaned in and kissed his forehead. He knelt there a while longer. The sun then began to rise. Olin knew he was alone in the room with him now. He leaned in and softly kissed Elmer’s lips. He took a deep breath in and slipped his hand out of Elmer’s grasp. He stood up. It was now his job to comfort the family of the man he had loved downstairs.


	4. Elis & Olivier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Drink to me only with thine eyes,_   
>  _And I will pledge with mine;_   
>  _Or leave a kiss but in the cup,_   
>  _And I’ll not look for wine._   
>  _The thirst that from the soul doth rise_   
>  _Doth ask a drink divine;_   
>  _But might I of Jove’s nectar sup,_   
>  _I would not change for thine._
> 
> _I sent thee late a rosy wreath,_   
>  _Not so much honouring thee_   
>  _As giving it a hope, that there_   
>  _It could not withered be._   
>  _But thou thereon didst only breathe,_   
>  _And sent’st it back to me;_   
>  _Since when it grows, and smells, I swear,_   
>  _Not of itself, but thee._
> 
> **_Song To Cecilia_ **   
>  **\- Ben Johnson, 1616**

**_Somewhere in Northern France,_** **_Summer - 1641 (Renaissance)_ **

 

Olivier looked out at the grounds of the beautiful manor he was in. He couldn’t believed he had almost missed out on this! He smiled and breathed in the air.

“Olivier!” Came the booming voice behind him.

Olivier turned to see Triston. “Greetings,” He said. “Thank you for convincing me.”

“Well, you’re practically one of the family now,” he said. “After putting up with the little heathens for a year and passing every test with flying colors, I thought it would be nice for you to join us for the summer. Plus, you’ll finally meet Uncle Elis!” Triston said rolling his eyes.

“The one the children always talk about?” Olivier asked.

“In the flesh,” Triston said smiling. “He should make it in time for dinner.”

Olivier nodded and smiled as he heard this.

 

* * *

 

Olivier had decided to go to his room to freshen up for dinner. The state was large and gorgeous. They were all English but Triston’s family were old money and the state in the French country side had been built by his grandfather. Olivier had had the good fortune of being hired by Triston as a tutor for his children and he had been more than happy to take job and move into their home. He had needed to get away from his life and this had proven to be a wonderful distraction.

As he walked down the curved steps he heard a voice he had not heard before. It was joyful and melodious and he could hear Triston’s children chattering away. 

“Uncle Elis! Uncle Elis!”

Olivier smiled. He had heard of Uncle Elis for months and the children wrote to him on a monthly basis. As he was to turn the corner he heard. “Is that stuffy tutor of yours here children?”

Olivier wasn’t sure why this made him grin, but it did. It was a mischievous little comment. Olivier turned the corner and the children gasped. “Indeed I am!” He said in the voice he used when the children misbehaved.

Uncle Elis jumped a little and turned and Olivier had to stop a moment and just stare. They both did. “So you’re the famous Uncle Elis,” Olivier said with a smile when he had finally regained his composure. 

“Indeed, I am,” said the young man in front of him. 

Elis was 23, he knew this from Triston. He had his dark hair pulled back and tied with a ribbon. He was wearing a slashed doublet with paned sleeves and breeches. The outfit was a gorgeous sage green that matched his eyes perfectly. Olivier looked at the green eyes... there was something about them that felt familiar.

Elis licked his lips and looked Olivier up and down. Olivier felt a thrill go through him. “So you’re the stuffy tutor that has been harassing my wonderful niece and nephew?” Elis said, suddenly serious.

“Indeed, I am,” Olivier repeated and the children giggled. 

Triston suddenly walked in. “Ah! Perfect timing! Dinner everyone!” He said.

 

Dinner was an interesting affair. There was a lot of talking and laughing. Elis was witty and hilarious and Olivier seemed to fall under a spell just hearing the young man talk. He looked over his handsome face. He was a perfect juxtaposition of boy and man. Strong jaw with pink rosy lips, hollowed cheeks but with a rosy tint to them, smoldering eyes with a freckles nose. He was embarrassed at the many times Elis caught him staring but if he was bothered he didn’t show it and smiled at Olivier plenty of times that he figured it was ok to keep staring.

After dinner was done the children were taken by their mother and nanny into the home. It was just Triston, Elis and Olivier left outside with wine and the setting sun. 

“Elis, Olivier is probably the only person I know that is better read than you,” he said.

“Impossible,” Elis said with mocked indignation. Olivier chuckled.

“Alright you two, I shall be retiring. Today was a long day and the heathens are sure to be waking my wife and I early tomorrow morning. Good night to you both.”

“Good night brother,” Elis said.

“Good night, Triston,” Olivier replied. They watched Triston leave.

“How about a walk in the garden?” Elis asked with a charming smile.

 

* * *

 

Elis had gotten a lantern and walked to Olivier. He had had a joke with the children about their stuffy tutor since he knew the tutor was helping them write to him. He had no idea said stuffy tutor was so incredibly handsome, of course how could he have known?

Olivier was dressed in a black doublet of embroidered linen and black breeches which looked wonderful on him. It made his hair and skin look more golden. But what had impressed Elis the most were his eyes. They were a gorgeous blue and they made Elis feel as is Olivier could look right into his soul.

“Ready?” Elis asked as he reached Olivier who was patiently waiting.

“Indeed,” Olivier answered.

“Apologies about earlier, you are not stuffy in the least,” Elis said with a charming smile.

Olivier smiled back but looked away. The way Elis smiled truly did something to him. “You’re lucky I’m not easily insulted,” he said in an amused tone. “But truly, it’s alright.” 

Elis nodded. “Shall you be staying the six weeks with us?” He asked. 

“That’s the plan,” Olivier answered.

“And then you’re to return to England with my brother?”

“Yes,” Olivier said. “You live here in France?”

“I do,” Elis said nodding and giving Olivier another charming smile. “I’ve decided to squander my fortune and live as a bard,” he said and Olivier laughed. “No, actually we have an uncle in France and I came to stay with him a couple of years. My father wants me involved in the family business but it’s not for me.”

Olivier nodded. “What is it you do?”

“I paint,” Elis said smiling. “I’ve been commissioned for many a portrait. Many vain people around, you see.” Olivier laughed. Elis grinned at him. “And did you always aspire to be a tutor?” Elis asked. 

“I’m the oldest of nine. I feel I’ve been teaching someone something my whole life.”

“That’s a crowded home,” Elis said. 

“It was indeed. My parents home did not have as many rooms as your summer home does,” Oliver said gesturing to the large mansion behind him. “My mother is seamstress and my father a shoe maker. I shared a bedroom with three brothers,” Olivier recounted smiling.

“Modest but happy,” Elis observed.

“Indeed it was,” Oliver said nodding.

The gardens of the summer home were beautiful. Olivier had seen at least 5 or 6 men tending the grounds earlier today. His employer and his family were extremely wealthy.

“This is the spot I like,” Elis said. He pointed in front of them, to a small fountain and the stone bench by it. The place had high hedges and fragrant flowers whose scent seemed to be more potent in the warm night air. “This is my little hiding spot. This is where I come to quiet my mind and slow the world down.”

Olivier said nothing as they walked to bench and sat down. The moon was full and was casting a pale silvery blue light on everything. It looked magical. He glanced at Elis who was looking up at the stars.

“Ever met someone and already feel connected to them?” Elis asked.

“Yes,” Olivier answered. He wanted to say ‘you’ but it seemed a bit much... but then he wondered why Elis had asked.

“I saw this woman in Paris,” Elis said with that mischievous smile he had. “It was a witch of sorts, she would tell you your future and such,” he grinned at Olivier. “She told me I would meet my twin flame before by 24th birthday. Which is six months away. So time is ticking you see.” 

“Twin flame?” Olivier asked. He had not heard the term before.

“The one whose soul burns like mine,” he said looking Olivier in the eyes. Olivier suddenly felt his heart begin to beat faster. “She said I would recognize him the moment I saw him.”

“Him?” Olivier asked softly.

“Yes. Him. I could never love a woman, could you?”

Olivier looked away, suddenly shy. How did he know? “I... I do not know,” Oliver said. 

“That means no!” Elis said. “By now you would know. How old are you?”

“27,” Olivier answered.

Elis nodded but said nothing more for a long moment. Olivier glanced at him every so often as they say in a peaceful silence. Elis looked like a marble statue, the silvery blue moonlight giving him an ethereal look. “Tell me your favorite poem, Olivier.” 

Olivier smiled and glanced at him. He knew several, as it was his job to know them and teach them. He thought of what Elis has said about a twin flame and wished to impress him. He recited one he thought fit the mood.

“Who ever loved that loved not at first sight? It lies not in our power to love or hate, for will in us is overruled by fate. When two are stripped, long ere the course begin, we wish that one should love, the other win; and one especially do we affect of two gold ingots, like in each respect: the reason no man knows; let it suffice what we behold is censured by our eyes. Where both deliberate, the love is slight: who ever loved, that loved not at first sight?”

Elis looked over and smiled. “Indeed,” he agreed. “And have you ever been in love? Not with a woman because we have already established that was a no.”

Oliver grinned and shook his head. “My life is boring, Elis, you do not wish to know about me.”

“If I didn’t wish to know you better why would I have brought you to my favorite spot?” His smile was bright even in the moonlight. 

“I do not know,” Olivier said softly.

“Look at the stars there are so many,” Elis said softly. Olivier looked up. He had never been happier.

 

* * *

 

In the few days to come, Elis took interest in Olivier enjoying his time at their summer manor. The grounds were large and they had horses. They went out riding and they also had a hunting party the first weekend there. Elis saw Olivier wasn’t too into it.

“Not to your liking?” He asked.

“I... no,” he said softly. “I am sorry.“

“No it’s me that’s sorry, I should have asked before I did this,” he said with a gorgeous side smile. He placed his hand on Olivier’s cheek and stroked it with his thumb. They were at the stables. There were suddenly voices coming from outside and Elis dropped his hand but smiled widely. “Let’s go eat,” he said straightening his collar, stepping back from Olivier.

“Yes,” he said breathlessly. He followed Elis back to the manor.

 

* * *

 

The following Monday marked a week that they had been at the Manor. At breakfast, Elis leaned towards Olivier from across the table.

“I wanted to go out into the country side and paint. Would you like to join me?”

“Yes,” said Olivier with a smile he could not hold back.

After breakfast had been finished and Olivier and Elis spent some time with the children, they got horses ready and took off. Elis had his paint supplies and on Olivier’s horse was a basket with food for they did not have plans to come back until dinner time. They had also brought blankets to lay on.

They rode for a while. The sun was high and it was warm but Olivier hardly felt it. Finally, they crest a small hill and Olivier looked out. There was a small sparkling body of water. It looked so fresh, the surface almost blinding. They dismounted and tied the horses to a nearby tree and Elis began stripping off his clothing. Olivier stared with wide eyes.

“Are you not hot?” He asked.

“What if someone sees?” Olivier whispered.

Elis laughed his melodious laugh. His doublet was off and the thin almost see through shirt he had on underneath was hanging open. Olivier stared at the pale chest. Elis walked to him and grabbed his shoulder. “Look,” he said and pointed out past the water, the land was calm and the tall green grass swayed in the warm summer breeze. “Do you see that speck of red. It’s almost shiny.”

“Yes,” Olivier said.

“That’s the landowner beside us. That’s whete their land starts. The children and Triston and his wife will not ride out this far.” He grinned and took a couple of steps back, raising an eyebrow. “No one will see us. I promise.” 

Elis continued to undress and Olivier reached for his doublet and began to work it open as well. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Elis. When he finally stood nude in front of Olivier, he pulled the ribbon from his hair. Olivier wished to touch it. It was a lovely brown and it fell in soft waves around his angelic face. 

Elis closed the space between the two of them and slid his hand up the back of Olivier’s neck and pulled him down. Olivier did not fight it. He had wished for this so badly. The moment their lips met, Olivier felt an explosion inside his body. He opened his eyes as Elis pulled back. He gave Olivier his handsome grin. He grabbed one of the blankets and threw it on the ground close to the water. He walked into the lake and Olivier stayed still and watched him wade in. 

Olivier finally finished undressing and made his way to the water. He walked in and began to look around, not seeing Elis. Once he was in almost chest deep he felt hands on him and suddenly Elis was upon him, climbing him. He wrapped his arms around his neck and his legs around his waist and kissed Oliver deeply, his tongue exploring his mouth.

Olivier wrapped his arms around Elis’s waist and slid his tongue inside his delicious mouth. They hardly pulled back, not wanting to stop. Olivier turned and began to walk to the shore. His hands were ceaseless over the damp skin of Elis’s back. With his right arm around Elis’s waist firmly, his hand slid down, squeezing his ass cheek, eliciting a groan from Elis’s lips. Olivier looked at him in wonder. He was so beautiful.

“Get the blanket,” Elis said in a breathless whisper and Olivier spread it out over the soft sand and grass. “Lay on your back,” Elis told Olivier with a soft push to his chest and his mischievous smile. 

Olivier did as he was told. He was so nervous he was glad Elis was taking charge. Elis then climbed on top. He grinned as he grabbed a hold of Olivier’s erection and stroked it in long, languid motions. Olivier’s back arched and Elis grinned. Olivier reached down wanting to feel Elis. Elis took his hand and guided it. Olivier propped up on his elbow. The sight took his breath away. 

Elis was on top of him, droplets of water trailing down his chest and arms from his damp hair. He had his and Olivier’s hands wrapped around their erections. Elis began to move his hips and their hands. It was wonderful. Olivier had never felt more alive. The warm breeze felt wonderful on his skin which had become cool with the water drying off him.

Elis leaned down and kissed him as his hips moved a bit faster. “You’re so big,” he said in a murmur and Olivier chuckled softly on his lips. 

They both grew tense as their erections got harder. “Come with me,” Olivier said, surprising even himself as the words escaped his lips.

“Yes,” Elis groaned on his lips and moved his hips faster. Olivier held back as much as he could and as Elis began to unload on him, he let go as well. The moment felt as if it was in a dream. The way Elis arched his back and groaned as he came, eyes closed and gorgeous pink pout opened. His skin and hair glistening in the sun. He was beautiful, incredibly so, and Olivier had never seen anything as astonishingly perfect as him at that moment. 

He collapsed on top of Olivier and laid there panting a moment. “Will you come to my room tonight?” Elis asked softly.

Olivier swallowed and furrowed his brown. “Which is your room?” 

Elis chuckled and pushed up. “I’ll show you when we get home,” he said with a grin. He closed his eyes and held his face up to the sun. “Let’s swim now,” he said and Olivier obliged.

 

* * *

 

They made it home right before dinner was to be served and Elis showed Olivier his room. “Come once everyone is sleep,” he said and kissed Olivier’s lips.

“I think that can be managed,” Oliver replied softly.

 

During dinner Oliver and Elis tried to pay attention to Triston as much as possible. Triston enjoyed hearing himself talk, as did his wife and so she was always hanging on to each and every word he said. Olivier was actually glad when the children began to act up a bit after dessert and were taken inside by their mother. It was maybe fifteen minutes after that, as Triston began to get relaxed and spoke even faster, that Elis stretched and yawned. If it was fake, Olivier was impressed at the realness of it.

“Oh I’m quite tired. That horse ride took more out of me than I thought,” he said sighing audibly. He suddenly looked at Olivier. “Oh could you please help me with that painting in my room?”

“Sure, of course, I promised I would,” Olivier replied with a serious look on his face. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood up. 

“Oh, wonderful, thank you so much,” Elis said and Triston looked back and forth between them two and called out good night as Elis and Olivier walked back into the house.

 

Once they walked into Elis’s room they laughed softly and Elis wrapped his arms around Olivier’s neck. 

“You’re a mischievous one aren’t you?” Oliver said as Elis’s soft lips pressed on his neck.

“Hmm, am I?” He asked innocently as he began to undress Olivier. His hands pushedon his chest and Olivier walked backwards until he reached the bed.

“Are we not waiting for tonight?” Olivier asked, heart racing. 

“No time like the present,” Elis said with a grin, looking down at Olivier. 

“Everyone is still awake,” Olivier said.

“Then you should be quiet and you may cover my mouth if I yell out too loudly in the throes of pleasure.” 

Olivier’s heart thumped on his chest as Elis climbed on top of him yet again, pulling him in for a kiss. They took their time and very slowly began to undress each other. The rolled around on the bed, the one on top working on the clothing of the other. Kisses, soft licks and gentle bites were given as more and more skin became available.

Elis moaned softly and sweetly and Olivier was mesmerized. Finally, they were completely nude. Elis reached for his bedside table, pulling out a small glass bottle. He handed it to Olivier. “Be gentle,” he said with a sexy wink. Olivier couldn’t believe this. Elis laid on his back, bent his knees and spread them.

Olivier looked down and ran his hand over Elis’s chest down. “You’re so incredibly beautiful,” Olivier said. He had been wanting to tell him Elis this and had finally gotten the courage to do it.

Elis grinned up at him. Olivier reached down and wrapped his fingers around his erection. He sat enraptured at the way Elis’s body moved under his touch. He grabbed fistfuls of sheets and his thighs trembled as he closed his eyes and arched his back, moving his erection in and out of Olivier’s hand. Olivier’s heart thumped in his chest as he watched the private show Elis was giving him. He had never been more turned on.

Elis opened his eyes. “Prepare me,” he said softly.

Olivier could do nothing but gratify Elis’s request. He opened the small glass bottle and poured some oil onto his fingers. He glanced at Elis, his neck and chest flushed, nipples hard. He spread his legs and slid his body down, closer to Olivier. He was wanting and it was beautiful and Olivier had never felt so desired and had never desired so much.

He gently rubbed Elis’s entrance. After a short moment he slid in. He stared as Elis’s body writhed under him. Once he was slick, he slid a second finger in. Sliding in and out of him, stretching him slowly and curling his fingers in him. Elis groaned and opened his eyes, furrowing his brow. His mouth was so red and lips so luscious. Olivier leaned in kissed him. It felt so good. His lips trembled under Olivier’s. He added a third finger and Olivier felt slight resistance. 

“Aah,” Elis cried out softly.

“Shh, shh,” Oliver said and he felt a thrill go through him as he shushed Elis. He kissed his lips again, so as to keep him quiet. Elis whimpered softly underneath him. Olivier was feeling as satisfied as he had earlier by the lake.

Olivier kissed Elis’s chin and down his beautiful neck. He took his time. He wanted to enjoy the feel of Elis’s skin under his lips. 

“I’m ready,” Elis said. “Please.”

Olivier looked down at Elis’s gorgeous eyes. They were the same shade of green as the fields around the manor under the setting sun. The golden hue his sage green eyes had was the most beautiful thing Olivier had seen. How could such a beautiful creature beg him for this? Olivier was in awe.

Elis wrapped his legs around his hips, he felt the press of his heels on his lower back. It was his first time making love to a man. He had had a couple of women... and he knew none of those moments had felt like this. Nothing was this raw or emotional and he had never felt so vulnerable. 

He lined their bodies up and looked at Elis, who looked up at him and their eyes locked as Olivier slid in. Slow. Soft. Gentle. Elis gasped. He looked so young, so innocent and Olivier wanted nothing more than to take care of him. To handle him with care and love. He couldn’t believe how deeply he felt for someone he had just met. He slid out and back in, slightly deeper. Elis’s moans were beautiful. They held each other’s gazes. It was so incredibly intimate. Olivier felt as if his soul was bare for Elis to see. 

The love making was slow and passionate. There were deep kisses and infinite caresses. Elis seemed to react strongly to this deliberate but slow strokes and touches. Olivier let his lips roam. He kissed every inch of skin he could. He wanted to drink in Elis and pour himself into him. He wanted this magical moment to last forever.

 

* * *

 

By the following weekend, Elis and Olivier were spending the nights together, they would go between their rooms. They would spend the meals with the family and daily made sure they made time for the children. It was fun and Olivier felt such warmth in his heart seeing how Elis acted with the children. He had the sudden thought one day that Elis would make a wonderful father, but then he realized that for him to become one he would have to marry a woman and they could no longer be together.

 

* * *

 

A week later it rained for three days straight. They spend the evenings together, after making love on the second day, Elis sat at the end of the bed and sketched Olivier as he laid on his bed and recited him poetry. Elis would ask to hear the poems he liked the most. It was a wonderful and lovely moment for them. Olivier loved how Elis would indulge him and let him recite poems he loved by memory. No one had let him do that. He had never been more himself.

 

* * *

 

Triston had not made any comments about the time Elis and Olivier spent together. One morning after breakfast and after the children and his wife had left the table, as Elis and Olivier stood to leave, he spoke up.

“Brother if I may speak with you?” Triston smiled.

“Sure, go ahead,” Elis said, sitting back down and pulling Olivier down, wanting him to sit down as well, which he did although the felt slightly uncomfortable as Triston has asked to speak to Elis only.

Triston seemed to feel the same. “I would rather if maybe it were just you and I. No offense to you, Olivier.”

“None taken,” he andwered and again made to leave. Triston was his employer after all.

“No, it’s fine brother. Whatever you have to say to me you can say in front of Olivier.” 

Triston stayed quiet a moment. “Very well,” he said and sounded a bit uncomfortable. “I received a letter from father yesterday.”

“And?” Elis said, leaning back and looking bored at the subject. He sounded slightly irritated as well. 

“The promise you made to him,” Triston said softly. 

Elis stared at him. Olivier felt uncomfortable. He didn’t feel he should be listening in.

“I have until I’m 25. A year and a half more.”

Triston swallowed. “He says he has made an arrangement for you,” he said softly.

“What?!” Elis exclaimed.

“I should leave,” Olivier said.

“No!” Elis said angrily and Olivier sat still.

“You tell him I have until I am 25!”

“He said you’re to go through with it this December, before Christmas -“

“What?! Why?! He told me I had until I was 25!” Elis was furious and yelling. 

Triston remained calm and actually looked really sorry for his brother. “Business,” he said softly. 

“Fuck! My happiness means nothing does it?” Elis asked exasperated and Olivier looked his way when he heard the way his voice shook.

Triston glanced Olivier’s way then back at his brother. “Maybe you will get lucky,” Triston said smiling. “I love -“

“I will not love anyone he wants me to marry! I love HIM!” Elis said and poked his finger on Olivier’s chest.

Olivier sat shocked. Elis... loved him? He blinked. “I’m sorry,” Triston said softly.

“I won’t do it. I won’t. I don’t care. Olivier is tutoring your children I will get a small apartment close by, because he won’t let me stay at any home he’s given us. I can make a living on painting. I won’t. I won’t marry anyone for him.” 

Olivier listened in a dazed state. Elis loved him. That was the most remarkable thing he had ever heard. 

“Brother,” Triston said. “It’s a bit more complicated than that.”

“How? Because fucking up my life and taking me from the man I love isn’t complicated enough?! I don’t want his money I don’t need it. It isn’t even his, it’s grandfather’s.”

Triston clenched his jaw. “He wants to expand the business into Spain and the Cortez family is willing to partner with him and -“

“Oh fuck me he wants to me marry Cecilia!”

Olivier looked at Elis. He was pale. He looked like he would be ill. “Yes,” Triston confessed.

Elis shook his head and let out a joyless laugh. “Of course,” he said. “She’s been making eyes at me since we were children.”

“She will be 21 December first,” Triston said. He wouldn’t look at either Elis and Olivier. “So father wants you married before Christmas. It will happen in Spain. You will move there. He says you are to produce and heir and give her at least five faithful years after that, you are free to take any lover you want but an heir you must produce.”

“Three. He can have three years. I was told I would have until I was 25, so I’m getting some time back. Tell him three.” Triston nodded. Elis suddenly turned to Olivier. “Will you wait for me three years?” He asked.

“I believe you should speak of this in private,” Triston whispered and Elis got up and took Olivier’s hand. He pulled him all the way through the house, his grip firm, he would not let go. Several servants saw this and Oliver tried to get his attention but Elis did not seem to care. Finally they made it to his bedroom. He shut door and instantly buried his face in Olivier’s chest and wrapped his arms around his waist.

“Please! Please promise me you’ll wait for me. I’ll return to you! I love you! I love you so much!” He lifted his face and his cheeks were streaked with tears.

Olivier’s heart broke. He had known in the back of his mind that he and Elis would not be able to spend their whole lives together but he thought they would at least have another year, at least another summer. This was... cruel. He could could not make Elis’s pain worse though.

“I love you too,” he said as he swept the tears away with his thumbs. He leaned down and kissed Elis’s eyes. He led him to his bed and sat at the edge. Olivier pulled Elis to his lap. Elis buried his face in his neck and continued crying. “Don’t cry, my love, don’t cry.” 

“It’s just not fair! I wanted more time. He told me 25 I’m only 23. I won’t be 24 until late December and I thought I’d have at least another year and a half with you, undisturbed,” he said. 

Olivier nodded. “I will wait for you,” he said softly. He meant it. 

“Will you?” Elis gasped as he sat up and looked at Olivier. “Three years. I promise. Three years. We can write. I will write you everyday. Everyday.” He began to cry again. “I can’t even... I got commissioned for a cathedral in September. I will tell them no. I will go back to England with you! I don’t care -“

“No,” Olivier said. “No you promised, Elis. You promised and you will keep your word and do a wonderful job, ok?”

“Ok,” Elis said softly.

“I will wait. In three years time we will reunite and we will make this work,” Olivier said.

The joy in Elis’s face was life giving. He threw his arms around Olivier and cried and laughed. “I’ll make it worth it. When the three years have passed I will be the best man, you will see, I’ll make it worth it!” 

Olivier smiled sweetly. “You already have,” He said.

 

* * *

 

In the days which followed, they tried to not think that they were on limited time. They also spoke of the future, of when they would be back together. It seemed to give them both strength.

“If you must marry too, I would understand and we would still make it work, no matter how difficult,” Elis said one night as they clung to each other.

“Yes, my love,” Oliver said.

Elis asked Olivier if he could write and Oliver said yes. “I will write you all the time. Will you write down poems for me and send them please?” Elis asked. 

“Of course,” Olivier said. He found he could never say no to such a beautiful being.

The day before Olivier was to return to England, Elis said he had something for him. “First I will show you mine,” he whispered. He showed Olivier a beautiful sketch. It was him on Elis’s bed, nude, sleeping. 

Olivier blushed. “Oh,” he said.

“Did you know you were this beautiful, my love?” Elis asked in a gentle voice.

“No beauty compares to yours,” Olivier whispered.

Elis then handed Olivier his gift. It was a sketch as well, but of himself. He too was laying in bed, nude. Olivier gasped. “How did you... you’re... this is YOU! It’s perfectly you!”

Elis grinned. “Well, I am a artist my love.”

“Oh, I know!” Olivier said chuckling softly. “This is incredible.” He gazed at the sketch. It made his heart flutter. “It is the second most beautiful thing on this earth.”

“And the first?” Elis asked, smiling as he knew the answer.

“You, in the flesh,” Olivier said.

 

The next day was difficult but they were strong. 

“Three years. Then I shall return to you. I promise,” Elis said.

Olivier nodded. “I will wait,” he said.

Elis looked around and then gave Olivier one last kiss and then he turned and walked back into the manor. He didn’t have the heart to see Olivier go.

 

* * *

 

**_London, December - 1644_ **

 

The three years of marriage had passed and Elis was returning to London. He was anxious. He was worried. The carriage could not go fast enough. Elis held his one year old daughter in his arms. 

“Hush, sweet Olivia,” he said soothingly. “We’re almost there.”

“This is not a trip a child this young should have made,” Cecilia said bitterly beside him.

“Doesn’t matter what you think,” he said icily.

“Why are you making me come here? Is she here? The woman you love?”

“Quiet!” Elis said sharply. Olivia whimpered and Elis held her tightly. “There, there sweet Olivia. We’re almost there. I promise.”

Finally they arrived. Elis jumped out of the carriage, Olivia in his arms and briskly walked to the home. He had to see Olivier. It had been too long. He couldn’t wait for him to meet Olivia. She was perfect and named after the man he loved and he couldn’t wait to see Oliver hold her. To have him teach her as he has taught his niece and nephew. 

Elis’s father had gotten his wish and the business had expanded and boomed in Spain. Everyone was richer. His father had agreed to three years and he cared not what his wife did. She could stay. She could leave. But as Elis had told her, Olivia would be raised in England and that was final.

As his niece and nephew ran out to him he saw his brother and sister in law... and no one else.

“Where is he?” He asked. Triston would not meet his gaze. “Brother!” Elis called out. “Where is he?!”

 

* * *

 

It was Christmas Day and there was light snow on the ground. Elis dressed Olivia warmly.

“How can you take her out in weather like this?” Cecilia asked. Elis simply ignored. Once his child was dressed he left.

 

The day was bright and sunny. It was beautiful. “The blue sky always reminds me of his eyes,” Elis told Olivia.

Once they had reached the cemetery, Elis exited the carriage, Olivia in his arms, and made his way through. He had been in London 12 days and he had been here 15 times. This was the first time he was bringing Olivia but it wouldn’t be the last.

Triston had told Elis that back in October, Olivier’s mother had fallen ill. Deathly ill. He had rushed home to take care of her, only to become ill himself. 

“He left you a letter,” Triston said as they had stood in Olivier’s old room. “His sister brought it and I have left his room exactly as he left it.” Elis had felt nothing while Triston had explained all this. He had been in shock. “His sister, along with the letter brought this,” Triston showed him the sack and small chest on the bed. “She told me he had said I would know who they were for and I was sure they were for you.”

They had been letters. So many. Back from the moment he had left up until he had realized he would die without getting to see Elis again. He had mailed Elis some, but had kept so many for when they reunited again. They would now be some comfort.

“Although I am sure you may want to, do not weep, my love,” the last letter Olivier had written had said. “The fact that this letter is in your hands and you are reading these words means you have kept your promise and returned to me. I want you to have a long and happy life and when it is your time, I shall be waiting and then I shall return to you.”

Elis looked at the small marker with Olivier’s name on it. He had gone to see his sister just two days prior and had asked her permission to get him a larger headstone. He had also asked if he could have one made for their mother as well. She seemed shocked but agreed. Before he had left he had turned to her and taken her hand. “Did he suffer?” Elis has asked softly. 

“No,” she had said with a soft smile. “No, in the end, he seemed very at peace.”

Elis had taken that with him. He had that. His memories. The sketch of Olivier plus the hundreds more he had made while in Spain. He would never forget him. He also had his letters. So many. He had not even read them all. But he would.

“Olivia,” He whispered. “The man you were named after was the best man I knew. Better than me, my darling. He was... my everything.” He said. He wiped his tears away. “And we will honor his memory by making sure you live a happy life to your choosing. You will be whatever you wish to be and you will love whoever you wish to love,” he said.

He stood out there a while more. Once he felt Olivia had been there long enough he knelt and placed his hand on the marker. “I shall return tomorrow,” he whispered. He raised his hands to his lips and pressed them down on the marker again and got up. He climbed back in the carriage. He gave one last look back as his carriage started to make his way home.


	5. Orson & Enzo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _When you are old and grey and full of sleep,_   
>  _And nodding by the fire, take down this book,_   
>  _And slowly read, and dream of the soft look_   
>  _Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;_
> 
> _How many loved your moments of glad grace,_   
>  _And loved your beauty with love false or true,_   
>  _But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,_   
>  _And loved the sorrows of your changing face;_
> 
> _And bending down beside the glowing bars,_   
>  _Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled_   
>  _And paced upon the mountains overhead_   
>  _And hid his face amid a crowd of stars._
> 
> _**When You Are Old** _   
>  **\- William Butler Yeats, 1893**

**_San Diego - 1887 (American Gilded Age)_ **

 

The first ‘library’ in San Diego opened on July 15, 1882. It was called a reading room and you couldn’t check books out but would come in and sit and read. A few more rooms were opened in following years, including one for girls and one for boys. San Diego was the first city west of the Mississippi River to receive a **Carnegie Library** grant.

 

* * *

 

Orson looked around. It was hot. Really hot. It never got this hot in New York. He shook his head. New York was a past life. He was here now. Orson had left New York and came to California. He was sick of his father trying to control his life, so he had packed a bag and taken all the money he had out of the bank and jumped on a train and traveled west. He ended up in San Diego in 1886.

Orson was well educated and he was lucky and found work quickly and had been renting a room from a nice old lady who didn’t care what he did as long as he paid his rent and kept quiet. He was about to start a new job which he was extremely excited about. He had been hired at the Dodge & Burbeck bookstore on the corner of Fifth and Broadway. He was on his way to work now. As hot as it was, it was still hard to be in a bad moon. The bright blue California sky always put him in a good mood.

 

* * *

 

“Ah, Orson good morning, right on time,” said Mr. Rawlinson, his boss.

“Good morning Mr. Rawlinson. I’m so excited to start.”

“Good to hear. Exciting things going on, not sure if you were aware but two Reading Rooms in San Diego order books from us and someone should be in today with an order. There is also the new Almanacs that have come in. Let me show you the backroom.”

Orson was ecstatic. This was his ideal job. He listened to Mr. Rawlinson explain everything and showed him around. He then started his day.

 

* * *

 

Orson had been at the bookstore five months. It was early December, a beautiful day, truly, when Orson saw him walk him. He had never seen him before. He was wearing white pants and button up shirt with a cream vest with golden embroidery and gold buttons. 

He removed his black top hat and smoothed his hair out with his long, pale fingers. Orson liked the way he tucked his hair behind his ears. He had a black overcoat on and a black bow tie. All the black agains the white and cream underneath was really nice and looked so good on him. 

Orson and him locked gazes. “Hello. Good morning,” he said. He spoke English with an accent. Italian. Orson was from New York, he recognized it.

“Good morning, how can I help you?” Orson asked giving him what he hoped was a charming smile. 

He must have found it charming because he gave him a wide smile back. “I’m looking for a book!” He said raising his eyebrows.

“Well, you are in luck, we have plenty,” Orson said. They both laughed. “Which book?”

“Books, actually,” the young man said licking his pretty pink lips. Orson looked into his eyes. They were a gorgeous sage green with golden specks. The young man smiled. “Ah, War and Peace by -“

“Tolstoy,” Orson said with a raise of his eyebrow.

“Yes,” the young man said beaming. “Strange Case Of Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde by -“

“Robert Louis Stevenson,” Orson said nodding. He grinned when the young man chuckled.

“And last but certainly not least, Adventures of Huckleberry Finn,” the handsome young man said. Orson really liked his voice. It was soft and melodious. 

“By Mark Twain,” Orson replied, still smiling. He couldn’t help himself in asking. “What’s your name? I’ve never seen you around.”

The young man bit his bottom lip. Orson looked him over again but tried not to be rude about it. He was young. Orson was 23, and figured the handsome stranger could easily be 20, but his slim frame and pale delicate skin gave him the appearance of someone younger.

“I’m Enzo,” he said softly.

“Italian?”

“Sì,” he answered and they laughed together again.

“Have you just moved here?”

Enzo looked away. “Just visiting,” he said. He seemed to not want to talk about it and Orson didn’t want to upset him.

“Ok, well, I do have Huckleberry Finn, we have ordered more of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. We should have some arrive in two days but I will have to put in a special order for War and Peace. The English version has only come out two years ago and it’s mostly being printed in New York. We had a copy but sold it last week.”

Enzo nodded and gave Orson a smile. “And how will I know when my books have arrived?”

“Well, if you give me your address, I can send you a note in the post or if you’re within walking distance I will drop by myself and deliver it to you,” Orson said grinning.

Enzo grinned back and his cheeks turned a slight pink. He tucked his hair behind his right ear in the way he had when coming in. “I would love it if you would bring them to my home. Well, not my home,” he said placing a hand on his chest and rolling his eyes. “My aunt’s home.” 

“The one you’re visiting?” 

“Yes,” Enzo said with a smile. “Is there an extra charge for that?”

“I’m sure there would be if we actually delivered but my delivery to you will be for free.”

Enzo’s pretty green eyes widened and sparkled. He grinned and he turned even a more gorgeous shade of pink than he had been before. “Is this something you do for all your clients?” He asked looking right into Orson’s eyes. 

“Only the ones with good taste in literature,” Orson said. “You see, I have read War and Peace myself three times and anyone who wants to read it, ranks pretty high on my list.” 

Enzo laughed out loud and at that moment Mr. Rawlinson came from the back, not really taking notice of the Enzo at the counter.

“Orson, I have to leave early today, but I’ve sorted the deliveries. Here are the notes on the ones that need to be notified,” he said.

“Yes, Mr. Rawlinson, sir,” Orson said standing up straight and speaking in a deeper voice. Enzo looked at him and grinned.

“Good. See you tomorrow.” Mr. Rawlinson glanced at Enzo. “Good day, young sir.”

“Good day,” he said with a nod of his head. They watched at Mr. Rawlinson left. “Your boss?” He asked. Orson nodded. “Rawlinson? So what happened to Dodge and Burbeck?”

“Beats me,” Orson said with a shrug.

Enzo laughed again. Orson really liked his laugh. He paid for a copy of Huckleberry Finn and Orson wrapped it up for him with parcel paper and tied it with string. He handed it over, their fingertips grazing. 

Enzo took a deep breath in. “Do you work tomorrow?” He asked.

“Yes, I do.” 

“You’re closed on Sunday though?”

“We are.”

“Then you should come for lunch on Sunday. What if I meet you outside the store at 12 noon? I’ll be by with my carriage?” 

Orson stood frozen a moment. “Uh, Yeah. Yes.”

The bell of the door rang and a couple of young women walked in. They were regulars. “Good morning, Orson!” One said.

“Good morning Tabitha,” Orson answered raising his hand in a greeting.

Enzo grinned and put his top hat back on. “Happy to meet you Orson,” he said.

“Happy to meet you too, Enzo,” Orson answered and watched as he exited the bookstore.

 

* * *

 

Sunday couldn’t come fast enough. Luckily though, a few copies of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde had come in. Orson paid for one himself. He would gift it to Enzo, as a thank you gift, he told himself.

Finally, Sunday was here and Orson looked at himself in the mirror. He wasn’t wealthy, not by any means, not as wealthy as he could tell Enzo was, but he wasn’t starving either and could treat himself to nice clothing every once in a while. Also, Orson knew ladies found him attractive, even thought he himself was not interested in women. He had figured this out early on in life. It was hard at times but he had felt Enzo was flirting with him and he wanted to make a really good impression. 

Orson put on a baby blue button up shirt and navy blue vest, jacket and tie. The vest had very pretty navy blue embroidery work and he had gotten a very good deal on it, which proved being found goodlooking sometimes did the trick. He looked at himself in the mirror. He had shaved and had styled his hair very nicely. He polished his shoes and then took off. He was excited. Elated. He had the book wrapped up in parcel paper and he couldn’t wait to give it to Enzo. He made it in front of the bookstore at 11:55 am and was surprised when a carriage pulled up almost at the moment that he made it to the bookstore.

“Well don’t you clean up nicely!” Enzo called out as he swung the door open. Orson grinned and climbed inside, shutting the door behind him.

“I hope that means I wasn’t looking miserable at the bookstore. I find our black aprons slimming.”

Enzo laughed as the carriage took off. They were facing each other. “You need no slimming and you know it,” he said and Orson saw how his eyes went to the book. Orson grinned. “Is that Jekyll and Hyde?” Enzo asked.

“Maybe,” Orson replied shrugging.

“Oh but I haven’t paid you!” He said.

“No need to. It’s my gift to you.”

Enzo blushed a lovely shade of scarlet. He was in a cream shirt with a dark green plaid vest and jacket. The green was lovely against his sage eyes. He tucked his hair behind his ear. “Orson, I have more than enough money,” he began.

“I didn’t get it because you couldn’t afford it, I got it because I wanted to get it for you.” He confessed, handing it over.

Enzo took it and ran his thin pale fingers along the packaging. “I’ll cherish it forever,” he said and looked shyly into Orson eyes.

He smiled. “How old are you?” He asked. 

Enzo furrowed his brow. “19. Why?”

“Just wondering,” Orson said with a half smile. “I’m 23.”

Enzo nodded. Orson looked out and notice they had turned into a narrow street. He looked out the window. The home soon came into view. It was very large.

“You weren’t kidding about having money huh?” Orson asked and Enzo only grinned.

Once they reached the home, a large state, they exited and Enzo walked him into the entrance hallway and then into a sitting parlor. He opened the package quickly and Orson loved the look on his face. He grinned when he saw the cover. 

“Thank you so much!” Enzo said.

“You’re welcome,” Orson answered.

 

* * *

 

Lunch was outside and pool side. Orson met Enzo’s aunt, Amira, and a cousin he had named Paulina. They were chatty and fun. Once lunch was over Amira looked around.

“Tesoro, don’t stay out in the sun too long. Maybe take Orson inside. I’m sure he would love to hear you play piano.” She gave Enzo a sweet smile. Her and Paulina got up and left the table.

Orson watched them go. “Do they not want you to tan?” He asked jokingly.

Enzo was biting his bottom lip. “Want to hear me play piano?” He asked. Orson nodded.

 

Enzo was an incredible piano player. Orson sat in amazement as he heard him play. After a moment he sat as close as he could and watched Enzo’s fingers as they flew across the keyboard. He was mesmerized. 

Orson jumped up and clapped when Enzo finished an incredible song Orson had never heard before. It didn’t matter. It was amazing. Orson walked forward and shook Enzo by the shoulders. He laughed.

“I have never heard anyone play piano like that!” Orson said with genuine enthusiasm. “You are going to be the most amazing piano player Enzo! I mean that’s what you’re going to do right? Because that was incredible!”

Enzo smiled. “What time do you have to go back home?” He asked. “I’m sure your family wants you home for dinner.”

Orson sat down on one of the couches. “I don’t have family,” he said.

Enzo furrowed his brow. “Are you an orphan?”

“No, it’s by choice,” Orson said. He glanced at Enzo. “Not everyone’s family is as wonderful as yours.”

“You’ve only met Amira and Paulina,” Enzo said. “My parents shipped me here. They’re too stressed out to deal with me.”

Orson looked at him surprised. “Why? You’re so perfect, you even look like an angel.”

Enzo blushed. “You first,” he said softly.

Orson looked at Enzo. “My father had my life planned out for me. What I should be. Who I should marry. I wasn’t for that. So I got my money out of the bank and hoped a train and ended up in San Diego. I’m renting a room. I’m fine. I’m me. I’m living my own life!”

Enzo grinned. “Sounds exciting!”

Orson laughed. “Exciting or foolish depending who you asked.”

Enzo nodded and seemed lost in thought a moment. “Come, I wish to show you something,” he said.

They exited the parlor and walked up the curved wooden stairs and down a hallway. Enzo opened a door and they walked into a nice size room. Orson looked around. There was a nice four posted bed with green velvet coverings. The windows were large with beautiful sunlight shining in. Orson guessed it was Enzo’s room.

“Look,” Enzo said and pointed to a bookshelf. “My collection!”

They walked over and Orson looked over the titles. They were in English, Italian, French and German. “You know all these languages?”

“I do,” Enzo said. 

“So you’re talented, a genius and look like an angel,” Orson said and Enzo blushed.

“Is that a good thing?” Enzo asked looking up at Orson with an intense gaze. “To look like an angel?”

Orson gazed down at Enzo. “I find them beautiful,” he said. 

Enzo bit his bottom lip. Orson wondered if they had always been that dark pink. “Ever heard of Bright’s disease?” Enzo asked. 

Orson looked at him. “No.”

Enzo nodded. “Well, it’s a sickness of the kidneys. It gives you numerous problems.” He looked at the books, not meeting Orson’s gaze. 

Orson kept looking at Enzo. “Do you have it?” Enzo nodded as he kept looking at his books. “How serious is it?”

Enzo finally met Orson’s gaze. “It eventually kills you. Everyone is different though. The doctor in Italy said the younger you’re diagnosed the worse it may be.” Enzo shrugged. “They diagnosed me at 11. I was told I could die anywhere from the age of 17 to 58.” Orson stared at Enzo. “So once I turned 18 I figured I was on borrowed time.”

Enzo turned and walked to a set of French doors in his room. Orson followed. They walked out to a small balcony. “My mother and father shipped me here to see if the weather would help out.” 

“Has it?” Orson asked.

“No more than the weather in Italy did. They just didn’t want to deal with me. It’s depressing having a son who could drop dead any moment. You understand?”

Orson stayed quiet. 

“So aunt Amira is to watch me till I die.” Enzo looked out at the grounds surrounding the home. “Sorry, I bet you weren’t expecting this. But I figured if we were sharing secrets, I may as well share mine.”

“No. No it’s ok,” Orson said shaking his head. He stepped closer to Enzo and placed his hand on his shoulder.

“Do you wish to comfort me?” Enzo asked. Orson nodded. Enzo smiled. “Do you wish to kiss me?” Orson froze. “Bold, I know,” Enzo grinned. His eyes were sparkling. “But since I’m on borrowed time I figured I have nothing to lose!” 

Orson couldn’t help but laugh. He gazed down at Enzo. He looked into his eyes. “Why do I feel like I’ve met you before?” 

“Perhaps we have met in another life,” Enzo whispered stepping closer to Orson and licking his lips.

Orson grinned. “Do you believe in coming back again?”

“I have nothing to lose in believing on whatever makes me happy.” Orson took Enzo’s beautiful face into his hands. “Be gentle,” Enzo whispered. “This is my first kiss.”

Orson thought it would make more sense to be apprehensive, but the more they talked the more he felt Enzo was drawing him in. He merely smiled and then he pressed their lips together. It was exhilarating. Enzo felt and tasted deliciously soft against his lips. Theypulled back slightly and then they parted their lips and their tongues slid together. The kiss continued, each taking turns, their tongues sliding into the other’s mouths. 

Finally when kiss was over, they parted and laughed softly. “Was that really your first kiss? You’re far too good at this, I’m sure you were kissing young innocent men all over Italy,” Orson said and Enzo laughed lively.

 

* * *

 

Orson spent the rest of the day with Enzo. They talked about so many things. Not many people had read the amount of books Orson had read and he was blown away with Enzo, who was four years younger yet seemed to have read more. He was incredible. Smart, charming and talented and Orson had never talked so much to a single person in a single day.

They did kissed a few more times. It was really sweet and Orson really enjoyed it. After dinner, Enzo give him a glass of wine, he drunk a small bit, and then after the sun had set, Enzo rode in the carriage with Orson as he took him home. 

The carriage stopped in front of Orson’s place. “I would invite you in but my room isn’t much to look at,” he said.

Enzo looked out. “When can I see you again?” Enzo asked softly.

Orson smiled. “Tomorrow. I only work in the morning. I’ll be free from noon on.”

Enzo looked happy. “May I pick you up at the bookstore at 12 then?”

“You may,” Orson said. He leaned in and kissed Enzo. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” Orson stepped out and closed the carriage door. He waved at Enzo and watched as the carriage disappeared down the street.

 

* * *

 

Orson spent Monday afternoon with Enzo as well and went for dinner every single night after for the rest of the week. If Amira and Paulina were bothered by his presence they didn’t show it. Quite the opposite. They seemed to really like him and Amira commented how happy Enzo was with Orson around.

Saturday after work, Orson had a bag ready... because he was going to spend the night. Orson was nervous and excited. Everything regarding Enzo was a whirlwind. Mr. Rawlinson and he locked the doors and closed up the bookstore and Orson said good night. Enzo’s carriage pulled up and when he looked inside he saw it was empty.

“Master Enzo was a little tired,” the carriage driver said. Orson nodded and climbed in. The carriage ride seemed to take longer without Enzo chatting away. 

Finally though, they reached the home and Orson walked out. Paulina opened the door.

“Good evening, Orson!” Paulina called out.

“Good evening, Paulina,” Orson said as he looked around.

She noticed. “He’s upstairs in his room,” she said, so Orson walked past her and started making his way up the stairs. “But maybe you can wait?” She called out as she ran up the stairs after him. Orson was tall and was taking the stairs two at a time. “Orson!” She called out.

Orson knew he was being rude making Paulina chase after him like this, but there was an anxious feeling in his stomach and he was beginning to worry. 

He didn’t even knock on Enzo’s bedroom door. He just barged in. Amira was there sitting at the edge of the bed.

“Mother I asked Orson to wait downstairs,” Paulina began.

“It’s alright,” Amira said standing. She walked to Orson and pushed on his chest. “Let’s step outside,” she said. Orson looked past her and saw Enzo on the bed. They stepped back out onto the hallway. She smiled at Orson. “I’m not sure if Enzo has told you -“

“He has Bright’s disease. He was diagnosed at 11 and he was told he could die at 17,” Orson rushed. Amira nodded. “May I see him now?” He asked. Amira nodded again.

“Orson,” she called out. He turned with his hand on the doorknob. “I’ll have a maid bring supper for you both up here. Maybe you can help feed him?”

“Of course,” Orson said nodding. He quickly walked back into the bedroom. He dropped his bag and walked to the bed, sitting at the edge.

Enzo was panting. The looked small in his bed. He had a cold rag on his forehead. He looked pale. “Orson,” he said.

“Hey,” Orson said and he leaned in and kissed him. He tried to make sure his face looked happy and normal. “Not feeling too good are you?”

“No,” Enzo said. “It happens sometimes. I’m sorry. I bet this is not what you were expecting. I won’t blame you if you would rather leave and -“

“No. No. Shh. You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” Orson said with a half smile. “Are you in pain?”

“A little bit but not horrible. Usually this lasts a day or two and then I’m better.” Orson nodded. “I can’t help but wonder though if this is how I’ll die. When I come down with a spell like this I wonder if this is my last.” 

Orson shook his head. “Yeah I don’t think so,” he said. He sat up and removed his jacket and shoes. Orson crawled into bed with him.

He saw the shock in Enzo’s face. He grinned when he noticed what Orson was doing, wrapping him up in his arms and cuddling him. Enzo hummed happily and leaned into Orson’s chest. “This is nice,” Enzo whispered. 

“You’re ok? This doesn’t hurt?”

“No,” Enzo said. “This feels so good. So much better.”

Orson kissed his forehead and rested his cheek on his head. He caressed his back and settled comfortably. Enzo fit in his arms perfectly. Orson began to tell Enzo a story that he had read. It was a little game they played. They summarized a story, without character names and they saw if the other recognized it. Enzo was better than Orson. He had read more and remembered things better.

They had been playing this a moment when a few maids came in. They lit the lanterns and one put a tray with their dinner on a small table close to the bed.

“Master Orson, shall I draw the curtains?” A maid asked.

“Say yes,” Enzo whispered.

“Yes, please!” Orson said. The maids seemed to just ignore the fact that they were in bed together. Orson didn’t think too much about it either. They made quick work of their duties and soon enough, they exited the bedroom. “You hungry?” Orson asked.

Enzo sighed. “I don’t know,” he said softly.

“Will you try to eat a little for me?” Orson asked sweetly. “I’m sure it will help.”

Enzo sighed. “Will you come back in bed with me after?”

“Of course,” Orson replied. “We can sit and read while our food settles and once we are ready we can lie down and I’ll hold you while you sleep.” 

“Ok,” Enzo agreed.

Orson helped feed Enzo. A broth had been brought for him, while a full dinner plate had been sent for Orson. Orson felt bad a moment and offered Enzo his food.

“I’ll just throw it up, the broth is better,” Enzo said with a sweet smile. “But please, eat.”

Orson ate and fed Enzo slowly. They chatted and took their time.

“Just leave the tray outside the door. A maid will take it to the kitchen,” Enzo instructed him.

Orson did and then took a quick bath and changed into his pajamas. He climbed into bed with Jekyll and Hyde and Enzo leaned on him as he read. They did this for a long while. They would stop and talk a moment about anything that would come to mind. They had read a couple of hours when Orson noticed Enzo seemed really wore out. He got up and blew the lanterns out and placed the book on the side table. He then crawled back in bed with Enzo and held him as he had before.

He felt Enzo relax into him and could tell when he fell asleep. Orson didn’t want to let his mind go into the dark corners it wanted to go to. He just focused on the feel of Enzo, soft and warm and so delicate in his arms. He felt so good. So peaceful. Orson soon fell asleep as well.

 

* * *

 

The next day Enzo looked better. He looked less pale and happier and ate poached eggs for breakfast without throwing up. Orson was happy. Amira came in and was so happy at how much better Enzo was.

“Orson, you work magic, Tesoro,” she said with a kiss to his forehead. Orson felt great.

 

The following week passed, and Orson spent each dinner with Enzo and his family. The following Saturday afternoon, when the carriage arrived for Orson, Enzo was inside and looked wonderful as ever. 

“Good afternoon, Orson,” Enzo said as he climbed in.

“Good afternoon, handsome sir,” Orson said and as the carriage began move and once they were in the privacy of it Orson leaned in and gave Enzo a kiss. He loved the way Enzo blushed and he couldn’t wait until he had given him what he had brought for him that day.

 

* * *

 

After dinner, Enzo and Orson retired to Enzo’s room. They were talking books, as always and Orson was gathering the things he needed for his bath. Enzo sat on his bed, pretty green eyes following his every move. Orson finally went for his bath and when he returned he saw the lanterns had been lit and the curtains drawn.

“I have something for you!” Orson said and walked to his bag and pulled out a parcel wrapped book. He grinned at the wide eyed look Enzo gave him. Orson crawled on the bed and sat beside him, handing him the book.

“Another one?!” He said. “I still haven’t paid you for Jekyll and Hyde!” 

“And you never will,” Orson said.

Enzo blushed as the quickly ripped the parcel paper and he softly gasped as he saw the title of the book. “War and Peace,” he whispered. He looked at Orson, who was taken aback to see his eyes, wide and beautiful, were full of tears. 

“What’s wrong?” Orson said. “This was supposed to make you happy!”

“I am. It does,” Enzo said.

“You don’t look it.”

Enzo gave Orson a smile. “I’m feeling quite selfish,” he whispered. “I’m... putting all this on you.”

“Oh, no, no,” Orson said. “Are you kidding me? You’re the one going through it all. I’m just here, beside you,” he took his hand. “I’m ok. I’m fine. I just want you happy.”

Enzo looked up at him and smiled. “You have been making me so happy,” he said. 

Orson beamed down at him. In this moment, Enzo looked perfect and beautiful, as if nothing was wrong. As if he was not on borrowed time. Orson brought his left hand up and placed it gingerly on Enzo’s soft neck. His thumb slid up and caressed his Adam’s apple. His index and middle finger gently slid into his hair as his ring and pinky finger caressed the back of his neck.

“You are so beautiful,” Orson whispered as he gazed down upon Enzo. “Your eyes feel like home and your smile lights up my life.”

Enzo blinked. “You’ve just met me,” he said astounded.

“Have I? I thought we had already decided we had met before. In some other life,” he whispered.

They leaned in and kissed. They had shared several kissed by now, all sweet and lovely, but this one... this one was different. This one was intense. This one burned with more. So much more. They pulled back and looked at one another.

Enzo was panting. His lips a glistening dark pink, his face flushed. He stared up into Orson’s blue eyes. He had been pulled into them the second he saw them. All of Orson was like a dream. Golden hair and skin and those sky blue eyes. 

He couldn’t believe all that had happened between them so far. It had been so quick and easy and felt so honest and pure. Enzo had thought he would leave this earth and not experience passion, desire or love and suddenly, here he was, not only experiencing, but doing so in a way he knew few ever did.

“Make love to me,” he said softly. Orson’s eyes widened.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!” Enzo climbed on his knees and wrapped his arms around Orson’s neck. “I feel so good right now. I feel healthy. I want to enjoy it. Not worry in anyway, just enjoy it.”

Orson understood. He leaned in and kissed him softly and slowly, laying him down on the bed. He lifted up onto his arms and watched as Enzo unbuttoned his top and slid it off, then pushed down his pajama bottoms. Orson knelt up and gazed down at Enzo’s beautiful body. He sat back on his feet and took a moment just to touch and feel Enzo’s skin.

“You are...” Orson trialed off. “I have no words to describe your beauty.”

Enzo grinned. He sat up and began to undress Orson. Once his pants came off, Enzo looked at him, eyes wide and cheeks blushed. Orson grinned at the innocent way his eyes wandered over his body, with virginal curiosity. “Have you ever?” Enzo asked. Orson opened his mouth to answer but Enzo quickly placed his soft hand on top of it. “No. No tell me it’s just me. I want it to be just me.” 

Orson gave him a half smile. “I’ve only ever lusted after you,” he said and pulled him on top of him. Enzo gasped and Orson kissed down his neck. “I have never wanted anyone else,” Orson continued. “No one has ever made me burn with desire the way you do.”

Enzo grinned. His skin filled with goosebumps. “I may not have ever done this but I know about men being together and I know we need something,” he whispered.

“Oh? What do we need?” Orson asked grinning into Enzo’s neck.

“Reach into that drawer,” Enzo said pointing.

Orson did as he was told and found a white round tin container. He handed it to Enzo and they began to kiss hungrily. Enzo moaned softly. Orson laid Enzo down gently and began to work his way down. Enzo was writhing and moaning underneath him. He gasped and his breath hitched in his throat when Orson slid him in his mouth. Orson swirled his tongue around, giving him a hard suck as he slid him out and then sucked just his head. Enzo arched his back. His hands were grabbing Orson’s hair.

Orson slid him out and leaned in and kissed him hungrily on the mouth again. Enzo’s eyes were open in surprise as Orson slid his tongue in his mouth. He was surprised Orson would give him open mouth kisses considering where his mouth had just been, but Enzo simply leaned into the kiss. When they pulled apart, panting, Enzo gripped Orson’s shoulders. “I want this,” he said. “I’m ready.”

Orson nodded and sat back. He took the small tin container and opened it. He rubbed petroleum jelly on his fingers and took his hand to Enzo’s entrance. He slowly worked him open, watching his angelic face, the expressions and sounds he made had Orson entranced. He had been honest, he had never seen anyone so beautiful. He had been with a couple of girls in New York and a guy here in California, but it had never felt like this. This... was deep. Emotional. He knew he loved Enzo.

Orson’s heart thumped in his chest as he watched Enzo open up under his touches and caresses. Once he was ready, Orson leaned over him. “Would you like to stay on your back?” He asked softly.

Enzo’s eyes opened, glinting with mischievous delight. He grinned. “No,” he replied. “I want on top.”

Orson chuckled softly. He sat up and leaned against the solid wood headboard and watched and Enzo took a generous amount of petroleum jelly and stroked him with it. Orson gasped and moaned as Enzo did this. He smiled sweetly as he stroked further, finally he got up on his knees and straddled Orson.

Orson ran his hands up Enzo’s delicate body. He loved it so much. “You know you’re the only person I’ve met who’s beauty is equally matched, both inside and out. You’re perfection.” 

Enzo laughed and leaned in and kissed Orson. “Just, lower me slowly,” he said.

Orson felt his heart race as they worked together to line up their bodies, Orson pushing his erection up. He watched in amazement, as he slowly lowered Enzo onto himself, and he disappeared inside. It felt amazing. Once he was all the way in they held each other a moment, panting.

“You alright?” Orson asked.

“Yes,” came Enzo’s soft reply and then he began to move his body. His slender hips and thighs were delicate yet strong. As his body adjusted, he quickened his pace. He gripped Orson’s broad shoulders and pulled him down for a kiss. When they pulled apart, Orson leaned his forehead on his. He pushed up on his knees and laid on top of Enzo. He began to make love to him.

Orson wasn’t expecting to feel this. This closeness, this intimacy. Sex had never felt like this before. They looked into each other’s eyes and Orson felt Enzo could see his soul. He felt completely bare, nothing between them. 

“Will you stay?” Enzo asked between pants.

“Yes,” Orson replied. He would promise him anything. He would do anything.

“Here? Will you stay with me? Until I -“ 

“Shh,” Orson said, he didn’t want to think it. He kissed Enzo deeply and pushed himself in deep. Enzo moaned into his lips. “I’ll stay as long as you want me to. It will be this until you tire of me.” 

“I will never -“ 

“Good,” Orson said as a moan escaped him and he wrapped his arms around the soft body underneath him. “God you’re so beautiful,” he said, voice full of emotion, and he concentrated on not being too rough as hot desire took over him and he fucked Enzo.

Enzo clung to him for dear life as Orsonmoved in and out of him quickly, deliberately. This was beyond anything Enzo thought it would be. His feelings were almost too much to handle and his body tensed. There was a delicious burning that worked its way through him, slowly getting stronger and stronger until Enzo’s breath hitched in his throat and he came, untouched, his release spilling in hot spurts over his abdomen.

Orson watched as Enzo orgasm and asked himself if he was truly worthy of being the one to give him this. He kissed him softly. They looked at one another. “I’m not worthy of this,” Orson said, almost in tears. He was taken aback by how emotional he suddenly felt.

“If you think you aren’t then you truly don’t know your self,” Enzo replied and Orson groaned as he felt Enzo’s body squeeze around his erection. He held Enzo tight and fucked him until he came, which was soon after. 

They laid their panting. Once he was able to, Orson got up and picked Enzo up, one arm behind his bock, one under his knees and led him to the bathroom. He proceeded to wash Enzo gently. “Does anything hurt?” He asked.

“No,” Enzo whispered. “I can still feel you in me,” he said and kissed Orson. He tried to pull Orson in the bathtub. “We can do it again here,” he saw in a rushed whisper.

Orson grinned. “I...” he shook his head. “Maybe you should rest?” 

The look Enzo gave him broke his heart. “No. No don’t do this. Don’t treat me like them!”

“I just -“

“I’m dying. I’ve accepted it!” Enzo exclaimed. “But I want to live, Orson. I want to live the days I have left. I don’t want to wander which sunrise is my last I want to enjoy each one!”

Orson nodded. “Of course,” he said. “Of course, I’m sorry -“

“No. No I’m sorry. This isn’t fair to you. I’m being selfish and asking so much.”

“But you’re not,” Orson whispers. He climbed into the bathtub and pulled Enzo to him. “Do you realize, I was a wandered before you came along. I left New York and never looked back. I changed my last name here,” he said chuckling. “If I’m asked my parents are dead and I have no siblings.” He smoothed back the hair on Enzo’s forehead. “I’ve never belonged anywhere until I met you.” 

Enzo leaned in. “So you’ll stay?” He asked.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Orson replied.

 

* * *

 

The following Monday, Orson got his belongings and moved in with Enzo. He told Amira he would pay her rent and she told him it was unnecessary but Orson couldn’t just live there for free so they came to an agreement and Orson paid her rent.

Once living together, Orson discovered Enzo loved riding horses but had been forbidden to by his father in case he ever became ill while he was out riding his horse.

“Well, he can ride with me. On the same horse. I’m strong enough to bring him back home, no matter what happens,” Orson told Amira and he knew she would let them ride.

They rode everyday. Some nights they even went out into the desert around the home in the pale blue light of the moon. 

“In Italy the moon isn’t so bright,” Enzo said. Orson’s arms were around him, holding the reigns.

“Well, if doesn’t rain here except for two months so we always have these cloudless skies. The moon is almost as bright as the sun, isn’t it?”

“Mmhmm,” Enzo replied. “In the future when you think of me, ride in the moonlight like this. I’ll look down on you and smile.”

Orson kissed his neck. “Ok,” he said softly.

 

* * *

 

Summer became fall. Thanksgiving and Christmas came and with it finally some rain. Enzo turned 20 and they celebrated the start of 1888. Orson tried not to wander about how many birthdays Enzo had left. 

Sometimes it was easy to forget. When Enzo was feeling healthy he was lively and gorgeous. He played piano and taught Orson to dance and they read and read and read. They dreamed up stories. They would go out for their moonlit horse rides and once in March, when it was warm again, Enzo convinced Orson to spend the night outside and make love to him under the stars. 

“Does it get anymore romantic than this?” Enzo asked as they laid naked under a soft blanket together.

“No,” Orson replied happily.

 

The summer got hotter and Orson notices how negatively the heat seemed to affect Enzo. “It isn’t the heat,” Enzo told him one night. He had been throwing up for three days and Orson helplessly watched him grow thinner. “It’s my disease.”

“Ok, well, just... just fight it,” Orson said. He felt helpless and lost and he didn’t want a life without Enzo in it.

“I have been,” Enzo said.

Finally in mid August Enzo was back to his old self but the last bout of sickness he had experienced had shaken Orson to the core. He had been in bed for almost two weeks and Orson had truly felt he could loose him. But he got better. He was back to his regular self, although a bit thinner but that was something that could be fixed. 

When Orson turned 24, Enzo threw him an elaborate party and many people from San Diego were invited. Orson didn’t need this but Enzo enjoyed it and so he let him do it. 

September passed by without incident, but the first weekend in October, Orson woke up to feel Enzo feverish beside him. He woke up, scared but he knew the routine. He propped Enzo up and placed a cold rag on his forehead. He went and got Amira. They sent for the doctor. They always sent for the doctor even though it was pointless, really, but they always did.

A week passed and Enzo was no better. There was a dread in Orson and that Saturday he told Mr. Rawlinson he had to quit. He couldn’t bear to be away from Enzo a single hour.

It took a couple of days for Enzo to realize Orson wasn’t going to work. “How is it you’re here during the week?” He asked softly.

“I need to spend time with you,” Orson said and leaned in and kissed him. 

Another week went by and then another and each day he didn’t get better deepened the sadness in Orson but he made sure he never showed it. He held Enzo each night, he whispered stories to him and caressed his hair. He always hoped the following day Enzo would awake with a pinkness in his cheeks which always indicated the worst was over.

But it was not to be. On his fourth week of being ill, Enzo looked at Orson. “Take me out tonight,” he said softly. “On our horse.” 

Orson could only nod. When he told Amira of Enzo’s wishes, she also didn’t object. The horse was a lovely white mare with gray spots. Orson often felt she knew Enzo was sick, as riding her was the easiest thing. Orson cradled Enzo and they rode it as they had so many nights. Enzo felt small, leaning against him. 

“Stop,” he whispered and Orson did as he asked. “Promise me, you’ll look at the stars and know I’m waiting for you there,” he said weakly. 

“I promise,” Orson whispered back.

“But live a long life,” Enzo continued. “I’ll wait for you forever so no need to rush your return to me. I’ll gladly watch you grow old.”

Orson nodded as tears fell down his face.

“Don’t cry,” Enzo whispered as he looked up and weakly brushed a tear away. 

“I love you,” was all Orson could say.

“I love you,” Enzo replied.

 

* * *

 

 **_One Week Later_ **

 

Orson, Amira and Paulina returned home from Enzo’s funeral. Their ride had been silent. Orson helped them out of the carriage and walked inside the home and up to the room he and Enzo had shared. He began to pack up his belongings. 

Amira walked in and saw him. “You don’t have to leave” she said softly. “Enzo loved you and I consider you part of the family. You were so good to him.”

Orson smiled at her kind words but she saw how the smile did not reach his eyes. “I can’t stay here,” he said.

“Then take another bedroom,” she said simply. Orson looked at her. “Just... think about it,” she said. Orson nodded. “Tomorrow we talk to the lawyer,” she said as if she had just remembered. 

“What?” Orson asked, confused. 

She reached out and held his hand. “Enzo made a will since his share of the family state became his at 20. He left all his money to you.” 

Orson stared at Amira, eyes wide. “What?” 

She nodded. “He wanted to make sure you were taken care of. The lawyer will do the paper work. He’ll also ask you to make a will. We are well off but my brother and wife are even better off. It’s a lot of money.”

Orson nodded. It all felt surreal.

 

* * *

 

_**One Month Later** _

 

The bell of the bookstore rung and Mr. Rawlinson looked up. An attractive woman dressed in black walked over to him.

“Good morning madam,” Mr. Rawlinson greeted her.

“Good morning, are you Mr. Rawlinson?”

“I am,” he said.

“You had a young man that used to work here up until about two months ago. Orson.”

“Yes,” Mr. Rawlinson said. “Wonderful young man. How is he?”

“Sadly he passed a couple of weeks ago,” she said.

Mr. Rawlinson put a hand to his chest. “What happened?”

“He enjoyed horse rides at night, by the moonlight,” she recounted. “Sometimes he would stay out all night. Two weeks ago he was doing this but when he didn’t come back for breakfast. There was a search party organized. It didn’t take long to find him. Seemed he had dismounted his horse and was laying on a blanket. He was bit by a rattlesnake. Unfortunate accident.” 

Mr. Rawlinson frowned. “Oh dear Lord, how unfortunate.”

She nodded. She handed Mr. Rawlinson an envelope. “He was a dear friend of my nephew’s and they bonded over books,” she said. “In Orson’s will he said he wanted all the money he had left to be used to buy books for the Reading Rooms Of San Diego. He and my nephew wanted the joy of reading to be shared with the children of the city. All you need to do, is follow the instructions in this letter. Purchase the books, give them to the reading rooms and then the bank will reimburse the bookstore. Set it up so the bookstore can keep giving books. The money will last long after you leave.”

Mr. Rawlinson looked at her with wide eyes. “How generous of him.” She nodded. “I will make sure to buy any book a child may enjoy and donate them to the reading rooms. I will do this until the day I die,” he said wiping his tears. “What a selfless gift.” 

“Indeed,” she said. She turned to leave. 

“Oh, ma’am I didn’t catch your name!” Mr. Rawlinson called out.

“Amira,” she replied. She turned and walked out of the bookstore without looking back.


	6. Owen & Emile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _one’s not half two. It’s two are halves of one:_   
>  _which halves reintegrating,shall occur_   
>  _no death and any quantity;but than_   
>  _all numerable mosts the actual more_
> 
> _minds ignorant of stern miraculous_   
>  _this every truth-beware of heartless them_   
>  _(given the scalpel,they dissect a kiss;_   
>  _or,sold the reason,they undream a dream)_
> 
> _one is the song which fiends and angels sing:_   
>  _all murdering lies by mortals told make two._   
>  _Let liars wilt,repaying life they’re loaned;_   
>  _we(by a gift called dying born)must grow_
> 
> _deep in dark least ourselves remembering_   
>  _love only rides his year._   
>  _All lose,whole find_
> 
> _**\- EE Cummings, 1944** _

**_Belgium, December - 1944 (WWII)_ **

 

Owen closed his eyes and tried to think warm thoughts. He was cold. Really fucking cold. New England got cold in the winter, yes, but, nothing like this. But then again, in New England he had heat and a bed and wasn’t in Hell.

He opened his eyes and looked around. There were two more soldiers in the trench with him. He wasn’t sure if they were sleep or not. He closed his eyes again and amazingly, sleep found him.

 

* * *

 

The next day, which was as miserable and as cold as the day before, he rode into Bastogne. He needed to go to the hospital and see if he could get some supplies. He was incredibly low on everything and the casualties here had been many. He hopped off the vehicle when they reached the hospital. A nurse here had given him supplies before so maybe he would be lucky twice.

He walked into the hospital and spotted the nurse. He was speaking fast French with a young soldier. He glanced at the young man, staring at him a bit too long, yet Owen couldn’t help it. He was really pleasing to the eyes. Suddenly the young man looked up at him and their eyes met. His eyes were a gorgeous green under a tuft of dark hair. He looked at Owen then back to the nurse. They spoke quickly again and then she walked off.

“Wait!” Owen called out. 

“She’s busy. Can’t you see?” He asked. He had a French accent, a lovely one, Owen wondered how he got to be in a US uniform.

“I need supplies!” Owen said exasperated.

“Like?”

“Bandages, penicillin, fucking scissors! I only have one pair and the other medic in my unit doesn’t even have fucking scissors.” 

The young man nodded. “Come,” he said and Owen followed. They walked through the hospital and out the backdoor. There an army vehicle waited with another soldier at the wheel. 

“Fuck sakes Emile! It’s about time!” The soldier exclaimed.

Emile. Owen glanced at him. He said something in French, which Owen recognized as an obscenity. He chuckled. Emile turned back to Owen, a smile on his pretty lips. “Ignore him, he’s a barbarian.”

Owen nodded. He licked his lips as he felt his heart pound. “I’m from New England. You?”

“Well my mother is American but my father French. We moved to New York when all this started. My father was so pissed when I joined and came over,” he said with a laugh. Owen loved his laugh.

“Well, when we get out of here, you should let me take you out for a beer, what do you say?”

Emile turned a bright shade of pink. “How do you plan to find me?”

“What’s your address?” Owen said.

Emile grinned and told him. Owen repeated it twice. “See you when hell is over!” Owen said with a wink. “And thank you for the supplies, Emile.”

“Wait! What’s your name?!” Emile cried out.

“Owen!”

 

* * *

 

**_New York - December, 1946_ **

 

Owen bit his bottom lip as he walked down the street. He was close. His stomach had butterflies. He couldn’t believe he was seeing him again. As promised, when the war ended and he was shipped home the first thing he did was write Emile. He realized he didn’t even know his last name. It didn’t matter. He wrote and rewrote that first letter seven times. Then he wrote a duplicate copy, he decided if he heard nothing and got nothing in return, he would send him another.

He had also written down his phone number and two weeks later, the phone call had come.

“Owen, it’s me, Emile.”

They hadn’t said anything the first time they had laid eyes on each other, but they both knew. The attraction had been mutual. They had spoken that day and then letters were exchanged weekly. Emile was 24 now and had began working at a postal office and he had moved into an apartment with a cousin of his. Now he wanted Owen to visit.

Owen, now 26, had gone back to his old job, he was an elementary school teacher. When he had told his mom and dad he was going to The Bronx for the Christmas holiday, they had been surprised but all Owen had to say was that it was to see an old war buddy and then everyone just accepted it.

He looked and found the apartment building. He went and buzzed the button that corresponded to Emil’s apartment.

“Hello?”

“Hey. It’s Owen.”

“Yes! Come up! Come up!”

The door buzzed open and Owen walked in. He ran up the stairs to the third floor and as he looked he saw him. Owen couldn’t help but grin. Emile grinned back.

“Come on in!” He said and shut the door behind him. Owen looked around the small apartment. “Let me take your coat and bag,” Emile said and Owen unbuttoned his wool coat. Emile took it and took his leather bag. He hung Owen’s coat. “Let me show you...” Emile trailed off.

Owen smiled and followed him. He knew Emile had a two bedroom apartment. His cousin, Estelle, had left last week for France she wouldn’t be back until mid January. “It’s a perfect opportunity, don’t you think?” Emile had said.

“Yes, I do,” Owen had agreed.

Owen looked at the bed and then at Emile. He had that same smile, as the day he had met him. “Have I told you how much I like your smile?” Owen asked.

Emile’s smile widened. “In the seventh letter,” he said. He went to his wardrobe and pulled out a box. He took it and walked to the bed. He patted beside him and Owen went and sat there. “You were testing the waters, I could tell,” Emile said. He looked into Owen’s blue eyes and then his lips. He opened the box and Owen saw all his letters there. Emile looked through and found the one he was looking for. He cleared his throat. He began to read. “I can’t believe here we are, a year later and still writing to each other. I still think back to the first time I saw you. Your green eyes and pretty smile. I really like your smile. It makes me so happy we bumped into each other that day. As if it was fate.”

Owen grinned. “Well, I’m glad I said that because your next letter included a photo of said beautiful smile.” 

Emile replaced the letters and put the box aside. He turned to face Owen. “I’m so glad you came,” he said softly.

“How could I not?” Owen asked.

It was.. strange. They had been writing to each other for about a year and a half and it was obvious they were attracted to one another. They had shared their lives with each other and had filled in all the gaps to their lives that they wanted to know. Owen had sent a picture back to Emile and some more conversations had been had. Finally, the time had come and they were able to have these two weeks. They would be alone in Emile’s apartment. Not having to pretend they weren’t attracted to each other, for neither one of their families would understand.

“I’m nervous,” Emile said sweetly.

“We don’t -“ Owen began, but Emile was suddenly upon him, kissing him. The kiss was hurried and intense. They were both left panting. “I was about to say we don’t have to do anything,” Owen said laughing.

“How could we not?” Emile said grinning and leaned in to kiss him again. 

 

* * *

 

They had kissed, but nothing more. They decided to go to the theater and watch Beauty and The Beast directed by Jean Cocteau. Afterwards they went to a diner for dinner. Owen wished he could sit beside Emile. He had been apart from him for so long, having only the memory of their brief encounter and the few pictures Emile has sent that now, having him in front of him and not being able to touch him was slight torture.

If Emile felt it, he didn’t show it. He was witty and funny and kept the conversation going. Finally, they were done and walked back to Emile’s apartment.

“Coffee?” Emile asked. 

“No, just you,” Owen said, not being able to hold back any longer. He wrapped Emile in his arms and kissed him. He wasn’t as reserved as he had been earlier that day. No. He wanted Emile to feel the passion he wanted him with. Passion that had sparked in Belgium two years ago and that had only grown stronger as they had gotten to know one another. He wanted Emile to feel all of it.

Emile kissed him back with as much intensity. Owen pushed back the jacket off Emile’s shoulders as he tried to take off his. They both couldn’t get the other undressed fast enough. Coats and shoes came off first. Then shirts were untucked and unbuttoned. Pants came off. Then undershirts. They made it to the bedroom door and Owen pinned Emile against it and dropped to his knees and took him in his mouth. It was heaven. 

Emile groaned and grabbed at Owen’s golden hair. “Fuck,” he groaned. It felt so good. “If you don’t stop, I’m...” Emile said weakly but Owen kept going. He wasn’t easing up. “Owen,” Emile said between pants. His head rolled side to side against the door. “Owen,” he said again. He was close. So close. “Owen! I’m -“

He came. He exploded inside Owen’s mouth and Owen greedily swallowed every single drop of his release. Emile’s legs felt like jelly and he slid down the door, landing on the floor. Owen leaned in and kissed him. They rolled on the floor and Emile got on top. He kissed down Owen’s body.

Where Emile was thin and gracefully, Owen was muscular and powerful. Emile loved it. Every muscle in Owen’s body was perfection in his eyes. He worked his lips down, kissing and caressing and finally, took Owen in his mouth as well. Emile enjoyed this beyond measure. He slid Owen in and out of his mouth, caressing him with his tongue, lapping up the beads that would form at the tip and sucking as hard as he could.

When he came, Emile swallowed, just as Owen had. Emile sucked him gently until he had emptied himself completely. They both lay on the floor panting for a while until their breathing calmed down. “That was amazing,” Owen finally whispered. Emile chuckled. “And we haven’t even fucked yet,” he said. 

Owen began to sit up, Emile pushed up as well. They sat on the floor as they looked at one another. “When I first saw you in Belgium,” Owen whispered. He raised his hand and caressed Emile’s cheek. “It was love at first sight, Emile,” he said. Emile felt his cheeks warm. “Your beautiful green eyes. They... it was like I knew them and the world shifted. I was, we were over there, fighting for our lives but, it was all just a bit better because suddenly I knew you existed.”

Emile nodded. “I know,” he said. He placed his hand on top of Owen’s. “I felt it and I knew you felt it too. Everything was just brighter.” 

“Yes.” 

“And please, my eyes?” Emile asked laughing. “Your eyes are the most beautiful shade of blue. I dreamt of you and your eyes that night. I told you my address and prayed and prayed! Please let me make it through this fucking war and return to him somehow. 

Owen grinned. They kissed. They got up and walked to bed, climbing in naked. They faced one another. “Have you ever been in love before?” Emile asked softly.

“No,” Owen replied. “Just with you.”

Emile smiled and they slid closer to each other, wrapping their arms around one another. “God I love you too,” Emile replied.

 

* * *

 

Their days together went by much too fast. Emile had asked for time off from the post office so they could spend every day together but it wasn’t enough and it was clear to the both of them, they didn’t want to part.

Two nights before he was to leave he decided to speak to Emile about what he had been thinking. They had cooked dinner and were sitting down to eat when Owen reached across and took his hand. “If it pleases you,” Owen began. “I will move here for you.” 

Emile froze. His pretty green eyes widened. “Are you serious?” He asked. “You’re not joking with me?” 

“Why would I joke about this?” Owen asked shaking his head.

“Yes! Yes! When? How soon?” Emile jumped off his chair and landed on Owen’s lap. Owen laughed as Emile kissed his face all over. 

“This summer,” Owen whispered. “I will come as soon as the school year ends and I will begin looking for work here. There are plenty of schools here. I will begin correspondence with them as soon as I get back to get the ball rolling.” 

Emile nodded. “Tell me how I can help. I want to help you.”

“Ok,” Owen said.

“What will you tell your family?” Emile asked returning to his chair.

Owen shrugged. “That I came and liked it. It’s a lot more exciting than New England!” Emile chuckled. “It doesn’t matter. I’m coming. I don’t ever want to be away from you.”

“Ok,” Emile said. “Neither do I!”

They ate dinner and then washed the dishes and retired to bed. Emile was quickly on Owen. 

“I’m going to miss you so much when you leave!” Emile said. He kissed the stubble on Owen’s jaw. He loved how it felt. It was rough to his lips, but he loved it. He gently bit his ear. 

“It’ll just be a few more moths,” Owen said, kissing Emile’s soft neck. “I returned to you once didn’t I? I’ll do it again.”

“Yes,” Emile said. He watched as Owen reached for the bottle of lube they had and lathered it on. Emile climbed on top, he quickly slid Owen in, he couldn’t wait any longer.

Owen looked up, gazing at Emile with eyes full of adoration as Emile rode him. He was so beautiful like this, Owen thought. His pale skin would flush and he would loose himself in the pleasure he was feeling. Owen’s hands were ceaseless over his body. He wanted to touch every inch of his beautiful skin. Owen pushed up on his palms and Emile quickly wrapped his arms around his neck and kissed him roughly. Emile was fucking Owen with earnest. It was as if the weight of the fact that they could only do this for another 24 hours before having to wait months was heavy upon him. 

Owen came with a guttural groan. He fell back on the bed, panting. Emile leaned forward, kissing him. Once Owen began to soften, he slid out and Owen turned on his stomach. Emile entered him. He felt his soft hands and lips on his back. Emile was a kind and giving lover and Owen had finally understood why it was called ‘making love.’

He opened himself for his lover, granting access to his body and Emile and moaned sweetly as he made love to him. He squeezed Owen tight as he came in him.

“I love you so much,” Emile whispered as he laid on top of Owen.

“I love you more,” Owen replied.

 

* * *

 

Emile and Owen had done nothing but stay in the bed the last day they had together. They spoke of life together come the summer time.

“You will stay here, Estelle will be ok with it,” Emile had said. “Once you’re here we can look for a place together.”

“What if people ask questions?”

“Let them! We’ll tell them we went off to war together! By the way, there are lots of reunions. We should try making it to some.”

 

Emile glanced at Owen now. It was hard to not be able to hold his hand. They smiled at one another. “Don’t cry,” Owen said softly so only Emile would hear. 

“I won’t,” Emile promised. He had cried this morning when he had woken up. Owen had kissed his tears away and reminded him he would return to him in a few months time. The train finally came and they gave each other a hug. They said nothing. Owen climbed the train and sat down just gazing at Emile who stood still. They couldn’t look away. After what seemed like a small eternity the train slowly began to move. Emile kept his composure. He stared at the train until it was a speck in the distance. Until it, and Owen, were gone.

 

* * *

 

**_New York - June, 1947_ **

 

Emil was giddy with excitement and anticipation. Owen had kept his word. He had corresponded with several schools in the area, and now he was going to interviews in three different schools. Emile was sure he would find a job in one. He was positive about it. 

Emil waited at the train station, impatiently. Owen had left in winter and now it was summer. It was warm and sunny and Emile felt as if he was floating on air. Finally the train arrived. Emile made himself stay composed. He would give Owen a small hug to not call any attention to them. He tapped his foot. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. The train stopped and so did Emil’s heart. People started getting off. Emile looked and looked and suddenly... there he was. He was hard to miss. His golden head was like a beacon and Emile waded through the crowd of people. When he finally reached him he gave him a quick hug, like he had told himself he would. 

“You’re back,” Emile said grinning.

“Told you I’d return to you,” Owen said with a gorgeous smile.

 

* * *

 

The summer was amazing. Owen did indeed get a job with one of the elementary school and he finally met Estelle. She was understanding, as Emile had said which blew Owen away. 

“None of my family would be ok if they knew,” Owen said as they all had dinner for the first time.

“What if they plan to visit you?” Estelle asked.

Emile looked at him and Owen just shrugged. “I guess I’ll deal with it if it ever comes to that. I don’t see my father wanting to see me though and my mother always does what he says so, their loss.”

“Why wouldn’t your father want to see you?” Emile asked.

“He wanted me to marry last year and I refused to.” 

Emile stared at Owen. “Really?”

“Yeah. So, it is what it is. I had been saving for a while anyway,” Owen said looking at Emile. “Since... since our first phone call. I began to plan ahead in case, you know...”

“In case it came to this,” Emile said and couldn’t hold back his smile.

“Yes,” Owen said softly.

 

* * *

 

Owen began to teach and they saved even more money. A couple of years later when Estelle got a serious boyfriend she spoke to them about getting married in 1951. Owen and Emile took it in stride.

In January if ‘51, Emile came with some news he wished to share with Owen, he seemed excited.

“There is a co worker of mine, Marzia, she has a girlfriend and they want to move in together,” Emile told Owen. 

“Ok,” Owen said.

“She said she has heard a lot of positive things about Greenwich Village. She was saying, if we wanted to, the four of us could move in together.”

“Make it look as if we’re two couples?” Owen asked. 

“Yeah! We could say we met overseas and then we got with them and that’s that.” Emile looked at Owen with hopefully eyes.

Owen grinned. “Whatever you want baby,” he said and gave Emile a kiss.

 

That summer they moved into a townhome in Greenwich Village. Owen transferred to a school nearby and it took Emile a few months but he transferred too. His co worker, Marzia went to another post office in the area. Marzia’s girlfriend was a seamstress and worked mostly from home and her clients came during the day while everyone else was at work. Life moved along peacefully.

 

* * *

 

**_December, 1957_ **

 

Emile awoke. He shivered. He turned and cuddled into Owen.

“Hmm?” Owen said half sleep.

“I’m cold!” Emile whispered. Owen chuckled and turned and wrapped his arms around him. He sighed peacefully. The last 10 and a half years of his life had been amazing. He kissed Emile softly. Marzia and her girlfriend were considerate, as they were towards them. True, it was annoying when neighbors asked when were they going to have children, but for the most part, they were left alone. They had become close friends, all of them, and they had another couple who understood their grievances.

“The Christmas party at work is tonight,” Emile said. “Did you still want to go? You had fun last year.”

“Yeah,” Owen said as he thought of the Christmas present he had. He opened his eyes. He didn’t want to wait. He got out of bed and went to the dresser. 

“Come back! I’ll freeze to death!” Emile said.

Owen chuckled. “I am, love,” he said. He opened the box and grabbed Emile’s left hand. He slid the Golden Band he had gotten on it.

Emile gasped. “What’s this?”

“Merry Christmas baby,” Owen said grinning.

Emile blushed. “It’s not for another 10 days.”

“So what? I was excited for you to have it and look,” Owen showed Emil his left hand. “I have a matching one.”

Emile grinned and grabbed Owen. “I am so so happy. You make me so happy. I love you.” 

Owen gazed at Emil. “I love you more.”

“Impossible.”

“It’s true, my sweet angel,” Owen said lovingly, caressing Emil’s face. “No one could be more in love.”

“Me,” Emil said and leaned down and kissed Owen. “What did I ever do to deserve you.”

Owen smiled as Emile leaned down cuddled into him. “Whatever we had to suffer to live the happiness we love today, I say was worth it.”

 

* * *

 

Later on that evening, as Owen was getting his and Emile’sclothes ready for the holiday party at work, Marzia came downstairs to the kitchen to join Emile.

“We won’t go, Chiara has an awful cold, I’m sorry,” she said.

“Oh really?” Emile said.

“Yeah,” she noticed the flash of gold on his hand. “Oh my! How lovely!”

“Owen gave it to me early. He spoils me,” he said with a smile.

“You spoil each other and you deserve it!” Emile grinned. “Anyway, tonight if anyone asks tell them we got colds but we insisted you both go instead of all of us missing the party. Have fun ok?”

“Ok,” Emile said with a smile.

 

* * *

 

Owen opened his eyes. The lights were bright. His throat was dry. So dry. He wanted to get up but couldn’t move. He licked his lips. 

“Owen,” he heard and then he saw Marzia’s face. He blinked. She caressed his face as he put a cup to his lips. He drank. The water was cold and soothing. Finally, he could speak.

“What’s wrong?”

“You don’t remember?” She asked in a soft voice.

Owen shook his head and looked around. He looked down at his legs. They were in casts and suspended above him slightly. He realized he was in a hospital room. He panicked.

“Where’s Emile?” He asked gasping.

Marzia looked scared. “Calm down please. Deep breaths, Owen. Nurse!” 

“Marzia!” Owen gasped. “Where is he?”

A nurse came in and he felt a prick on his neck. Everything went blurry. Then everything went black.

 

* * *

 

Owen blinked his eyes open. A few seconds later, it all came rushing back. Emile and he had been on their way to the Christmas party. Emile was driving. They were chatting when suddenly, he lost control of the car. Marzia has said the police said he had hit a patch of ice on the road. They veered off the road and the car landed upside down.

“It was instant,” Marzia had said. “He didn’t suffer.”

How do they know? Owen wanted to ask. But he didn’t. He didn’t ask anyone anything. Marzia was sitting by his side. She was all in black. She had been to Emile’s funeral. Owen still couldn’t leave the hospital. He had broken both legs, some ribs and an arm. He couldn’t even be there for the man he loved as he was buried.

 

* * *

 

**_Three Weeks Later_ **

 

Marzia was making her way to Owen’s hospital room when she noticed the commotion. There were at least 10 people in his small room. One of the nurses recognized her and pulled her to the side.

“What’s happening?” Marzia asked.

“Mr. Owen went into cardiac arrest.”

“What?!” Marzia was shocked. She tried to go back to the room but the nurse held her back.

“Please, ma’am. Let them do their job.”

Marzia stood still until the room went still and nurses started walking out. The last were two doctors. Marzia recognized one. The nurse rushed over and motioned to Marzia. He nodded and walked over. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“What happened?” She asked. 

“Sometimes with these accidents, blood clots can form and if they travel up to the heart and lungs they fatal,” he said. He spoke more but Marzia wasn’t paying him much attention.

She nodded her head and thanked the doctor. She sat on one of the chairs in the waiting room. She couldn’t believe she had lost her two best friends within a month. She felt a soft hand on her shoulder. She looked up and saw a nurse. She had never seen her before.

“He was talking in his sleep before he went into cardiac arrest,” he nurse said.

“What was he saying?” Marzia asked.

“He said I’m here Emily. Is that you? Emily?”

Marzia shook her and her tears fell and smiled. “He wasn’t calling for Emily. He was calling for Emile,” Marzia said.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the nurse said. 

“Don’t be,” Marzia said squeezing her hand. “If he’s with Emile then he’s happy.”


	7. Elio & Oliver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I saw it once,_   
>  _I have no doubt;_   
>  _but now can’t place_   
>  _its whereabouts._
> 
> _I try to think it,_   
>  _time and time;_   
>  _but what it is,_   
>  _won’t come to mind._
> 
> _A word, a scent -_   
>  _a feeling, past._   
>  _It will not show,_   
>  _though much I’ve asked._
> 
> _And when it comes,_   
>  _I soon forget -_   
>  _this is how it felt,_   
>  _when we first met._
> 
> **_Déjà Vu_  
>  **   
>  **\- Lang Laev, 2013**

**_New York, April - Present Day_ **

 

Oliver looked around the stage, excited. He looked through all the faces. He didn’t see him anywhere. Finally, he got tired of looking.

“Andre!” He called out. “Where is he?!”

Andre chuckled. “He’s practicing his piano. Don’t bother him.”

“I haven’t met him. I need to meet him!” 

Andre sighed. “He’s upstairs! Follow the piano music!”

Oliver grinned and ran off. He went backstage and then found the stairs that lead to the rooms upstairs. They were used for rehearsing, he knew this. The moment he reached the top of the stairs he heard the faint piano music. He followed it. His heart thumped in his chest. He was so excited he could barely stand it. He quickly walked down the hall. The music suddenly stopped and he stopped as well, not knowing which room the music was coming from. 

He heard voices though and he gravitated towards them. The door was ajar.

“Ok, take it from the top again,” a voice said and then the piano music started.

Oliver recognizes the song. It was The Scientist by Coldplay. The soft piano music filled the room and Oliver gently eased the door open. He stepped inside. He couldn’t see his face yet, just his back. He knew his name, Elio. He began to sing.

“Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry, you don't know how lovely you are. I had to find you, tell you I need you, tell you I set you apart...”

He had a lovely voice. No surprise though, they were both the leads in a musical. Oliver knew this song, everyone knew it. He decided to have a little fun. He began to sing the next part.

“Tell me your secrets and ask me your questions, oh let's go back to the start. Running in circles, coming up tails, heads on a science apart...”

Like a true professional, Elio hadn’t stopped playing. They finally looked at one another. Elio recognizes him, Oliver had been doing musical theater for about six years now and had made a name for himself. Elio was a new comer and this would be his first show. They smiled at one another and sang the chorus in perfect harmony.

“Nobody said it was easy. It's such a shame for us to part. Nobody said it was easy. No one ever said it would be this hard... oh take me back to the start.” 

Oliver walked over and sat beside him on the piano bench. Elio sang the next part.

“I was just guessing at numbers and figures, pulling your puzzles apart. Questions of science, science and progress, do not speak as loud as my heart.” 

Oliver sang now. 

“Tell me you love me, come back and haunt me, oh and I rush to the start. Running in circles, chasing our tails, comingback as we are.”

Again they sang together.

“Nobody said it was easy, oh it's such a shame for us to part. Nobody said it was easy, no one ever said it would be so hard. I'm going back to the start...”

Elio played it till the end and finished with a flourish.

“And my job here is done!” Said the vocal coach. They all laughed. “Seriously though, take the afternoon off Elio, rest the vocal chords and get to know Oliver! You two are going to be the next big ‘ship’ on tumblr so you might as well get to know each other!”

Elio and Oliver laughed and looked at one another.

“Ok, I’ve imagined meeting you in my mind so many times, and I always have something funny and witty to say to like make this amazing first impression and blow you away but my mind is drawing a total blank right now!”

Elio’s words were rushed and his cheeks pink and Oliver found the whole thing incredibly adorable, which he felt was insane. He laughed. 

“But I do want to say that I have seen your three shows!”

“All three?” Oliver asked, he couldn’t stop grinning. This kid was beautiful. Those eyes...

“All three!” Elio said with a huge grin. “Six years ago, I was 13 -“

“Fuck, I feel old.”

“You’re 26, that’s not old!” 

“I’m sorry continue!”

“Ok!” Elio laughed. “My mom took me to see you in Phantom of the Opera, she took me to see you on purpose. My mom did musical theater too you see,” Elio explained. Oliver was entranced. “And she was like, Elio this guy is only 20 and here he is playing the Phantom and you should aspire to be like him!”

“Wow!” Oliver said. 

Elio laughed his cute laugh. Oliver liked it. A lot. “I know!” He said. “Then we were in Paris when they did the anniversary showing of Les Miserables. You were amazing as always.”

“I only did three shows, they were rotating so many people.” 

“I know,” Elio said. “I made sure I had tickets to one of your shows,” he said again with his cute nervous laugh. “And when you did Hamilton, I saw you twice.”

“Wow. Thank you. Fuck, I hope I live up to your expectations. I mean, what if at the end of this you think I’m a total douche?”

“Oh shut up! Are you kidding me?!” Elio shook his head. They looked at one another. “I am like such a huge fan of yours.”

Oliver shook his head. “I am not worthy of all this praise.” 

“You so are,” Elio said with a grin. 

“I’m not. I’m a total dork and I’m loud and say stupid things and laugh at totally inappropriate moments and tweet dumb shit all the time.” 

“Then you’re even more deserving then,” Elio said. “And I follow you on twitter and sometimes seeing you going back and forth with some of those trolls makes my day.”

Oliver laughed and bumped his shoulder into Elio’s. Oliver felt they were going to get along just fine.

 

* * *

 

_**Four Months Later** _

 

Oliver glanced at Elio and grinned. He was usually grinning when Elio was around. “You nervous?” He asked. 

“Dude we’re about to be on Ellen!” Elio said. He looked like he wanted to bounce off the walls.

“Yeah, I know,” Oliver said sipping from a water bottle.

“We were just watching her at your condo three weeks ago and now we’re here!”

“I know,” Oliver repeated. “Make sure you tell her what a good kisser I am, ok?”

Elio laughed his super giddy laugh. Oliver loved it when he did that. He chuckled.

“Ok, gentlemen! We’re ready!”

Elio and Oliver checked themselves out in the large mirror in green room they were in and walked out.

“Ok, show is on commercial, Ellen will introduce you and then you walk out!”

“Don’t trip,” Oliver whispered to Elio. He exploded in a fit of nervous laughter. Oliver grinned.

“Ok! My next guests are the leads in a wonderful new romantic musical which will premier on Broadway in three weeks. I was lucky enough to be invited to see an advance show and it was amazing! From ‘I Remember Everything’ please welcome Elio Perlman and Oliver Behrens!”

“Go! Go! Go!” Oliver said, giving Elio a nudge. He looked at Elio who looked incredibly happy.

“Wow!” He said glancing back at Oliver who only smiled. They walked up on stage and Elio hugged Ellen. Oliver went and hugged her as well. They sat down and the audience quieted down. 

“Alright, welcome! You guys are amazing!”

The audience cheered and Oliver smiled out at them. He glanced at Elio, making sure he was ok.

“So, in case anyone out there has been living under a rock and haven’t heard,” Ellen said to laughter. “Elio and Oliver play the romantic leads in this amazing musical called ‘I Remember Everything.’ Elio, tell everyone what it’s about!”

“Oh!” Elio said and laughed his cute nervous laugh. Oliver smiled. “Ok, so Oliver and I play two college students who meet in northern Italy. I’m Italian and I’m coming home for the summer and on a train and Oliver has just lost his wallet.”

“Right,” Ellen said.

“You tell them,” Elio said laughing and the audience laughed at his cuteness which Oliver did a lot.

“Right so, my wallet is lost and I have nothing and I’m at the train platform freaking and Elio stops and asks what’s wrong and I tell him. And he’s like I’ll buy you a ticket but I’m like, I have no wallet. No credit cards. I have no where to go!”

“Right and he says, come with me and stay at my home and you can call home, US embassy, whatever, we’ll figure it out.” 

“Right,” Oliver says. “So I go and his family is wonderful and he is perfect and we fall in love!”

“Who wouldn’t fall in love with this guy huh?!” Elio suddenly says patting Oliver on the chest and shoulder which makes him smile. He loves how Elio’s hands feel. It makes his heart beat fast. The audience erupts in laughter. Oliver glances at Elio. They grin at one another.

“And of course, it’s so romantic. So romantic,” Ellen says. “And you guys are such amazing singers. Elio! This is your first show and you’re practically the lead! I mean, you both are, but you steal the show!” 

“Oh wow! No! Seriously though, I was so nervous but Oliver is such a professional and he’s so amazing and he took me under his wing and just was so generous with his time and knowledge and I was a spluttering mess when I met him! I was such a huge fan!” He laughs and looks at Oliver.

“Please! I met him while he was singing and he just blew me away,” Oliver says grinning. He noticed how Elio grins and blushes as their eyes meet.

“You’re both so adorable and have such amazing chemistry. And of course, I love the fact that it’s two men playing romantic leads, I loved it and everyone in the audience is going home with the soundtrack for the show!”

The audience erupts in loud cheers.

 

* * *

 

After the taping of the Ellen show they were back in their hotel room. They had been flown to several places promoting the show and Elio somehow always ended up in Oliver’s room for the night. Oliver didn’t mind. Elio looked quite cute sleeping. After the third time that it happened, Oliver told his manager that whoever was booking the rooms should just book one and save the money. His manager only raised her eyebrows but Oliver ignored it.

They were now packing. Their flight would be leaving early tomorrow. They had been in California for a week and they were going back to New York for final rehearsals before opening night.

“Oliver, fuck, I can’t believe we just taped The Ellen DeGeneres Show!”

Oliver glanced up and grinned at Elio. “Yes, we did.”

“I feel like... jumping on the bed!” Elio said and got up on the bed and jumped on it. Oliver laughed. “Come up here Oliver! Jump on the bed with me!”

“So I’m 6’4 and if I jump on the bed my head is going through the ceiling!” Oliver said as he put his bag down. He had packed Elio’s bag before his. Elio sucked at packing he was so messy and it was just better if Oliver did it.

“Ok! Then just come up here!” Elio said and Oliver couldn’t believe it, but he got up on the bed and Elio was jumping circles around him.

Elio got too close to the edge and Oliver freaked out. “Elio!” He said and grabbed his shirt and pulled him. Elio bumped into Oliver hard and they both lost their footing in the uneven cushiness of the mattress. The fell, Elio landing on top of Oliver.

Elio was laughing and Oliver suddenly squeezed him and began to tickle him. Elio was incredibly ticklish and Oliver thought that was really sweet. He loved how Elio laughed. He was gasping and asking Oliver to stop but Oliver was having too much fun. “O.. li.. ver..!!” Elio gasped and Oliver thought he couldn’t get any cuter. 

Elio tried hard to squirm away but Oliver dug his fingers into his side, always gently though, because it’s not like he wanted to leave bruises on him, and Elio reacted rather violently and pushed up and around, trying hard to get away and their lips met.

They froze. Froze. Didn’t move away. They stayed and then they pressed in harder. Elio moaned. Oliver loved how Elio moaned. It was so sexy. Oliver slid his hands into Elio’s shirt. He felt so soft. He wasn’t small, per say, he was 5’10, but he was thin and he just felt so good. And this felt so right. 

Elio was so eager. He got on his hands and knees on top of Oliver, pushing in harder, crushing their lips together when suddenly, he got up on his knees and pulled his shirt off. “I’ve wanted this for so long!” Elio said and dived in for Oliver’s lips again.

Oliver realized he should be the responsible party and thought of several things. First, the fact that he was the older and more experienced actor. Second, the fact that he and Elio were about to start performing 3 to 4 times a week together for five months and they should be able keep a respectful and professional relationship. Third, if this ended badly, Oliver would be the asshole. It was a given. Elio was so cute and adorable and everyone loved him, so if he came out of this with a broken heart... it would be horrible but for Oliver only. But somehow, none of this seemed reason enough to stop kissing Elio.

Elio pushed up. “You want this right?” He asked, nervous suddenly, when just two minutes ago he had ripped his shirt off and had virtually forced his gorgeous pout on Oliver.

Oliver looked up at him now. He pushed up into a sitting position, Elio straddling him. “I do,” he said and caressed Elio’s cheek. 

Elio grinned and leaned into Oliver’s palm. Oliver couldn’t believe how much he felt for Elio. He smiled. “I think you’re the most beautiful soul I’ve ever met,” Oliver said softly, speaking the truth. Elio beamed at him. “Since the moment I met you, it’s felt so comfortable and so good. As if -“

“As if we’ve met before?” Elio asked shyly.

“Yes!” Oliver said, eyes a little wide. “Did you... you felt it too?”

Elio nodded. “Yeah,” I said. “I felt so safe since we met and... and.. I just wanted to kiss you so badly,”’ he said and leaned in again and they kissed. Slower this time and deeper. It was heavenly, like a religious experience. They didn’t want to stop. So they didn’t. But kiss was all they did. 

A long while after, they changed into they sleep clothes and crawled into bed and Elio cuddled up to Oliver, who happily held him in his arms.

 

* * *

 

They flew back to NY. Elio was his usual funny self, talking a hundred miles an hour. Oliver liked to just lean back and listen to him talk. He looked at Elio, who was listening to rap music on his chunky noise cancelling headphones, one side off. They were flying first class and he always wanted the window seat, which Oliver was more than happy to let him have.

Oliver knew they needed to talk about the kiss and about working together and if they planned to keep on kissing... Oliver had never done this, dated a co star. He sighed. He glanced at Elio, who suddenly glanced back and smiled, sage green eyes looking so beautiful. Oliver felt he could melt. Those eyes were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He truly felt as if he had seen those eyes before but he couldn’t place where. They seemed so familiar... maybe in his dreams he thought and smiled at his own romantic thoughts.

 

* * *

 

They landed in NY and there was a driver waiting for them. Their luggage got loaded in the trunk.

“Did you want to grab some food before you get dropped off?” Oliver asked.

Elio still lived at home with his parents. “Could I go stay with you, instead?” He asked.

Oliver looked at him. Elio has spent time at his penthouse before. Every weekend actually since they had met. Oliver had felt so comfortable with him and he had wanted this one on one because he wanted to know everything about Elio. Today just wasn’t a weekend though, and he suddenly wondered if Elio was going to use the guest bedroom like he always did... they had never spent the night on his bed like they had at the hotels...

“Yeah! Sure!” Oliver answered with a smile because he really like Elio. A lot. He wanted to spend time with him as much as he could.

“Ok! Well I’ll call my mom and let her know! How long can I stay?” Elio asked.

“As long as you want,” Oliver answered because it’s what he wanted and he didn’t want to be rude.

 

* * *

 

Elio truly was sweet. The week after he ended up going home for a night and then called Oliver the next day and said he missed him so Oliver told him to prepare a bag (or two) and he could come stay over again.

Elio hadn’t used the guest bedroom. He had slept in the same bed as Oliver, but they had only still just kissed. Oliver knew Elio was young and didn’t know how much experience he had and he was letting him dictate how fast they moved.

After rehearsals that night, when they walked into Oliver’s penthouse, once the door closed, Elio wrapped his arms around Oliver’s neck and literally jumped on him, trying to wrap his legs around him. “I couldn’t even sleep last night, I missed your smell and the warmth of your body,” he said in his soft voice and Oliver felt as if he could melt.

“I missed you too,” he said.

They kissed deeply and stumbled into the living room and when Elio fell back onto the couch, Oliver saw him grab his polo from behind and throw it to the side and then he began undoing his pants.

“Elio,” Oliver said softly, placing a hand on his knee.

“Yeah?” His face was flushed and pretty mouth a dark pink.

“We don’t... I mean.” Oliver let out a breath. He really was no good at these things. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready do or what to do.” 

“I know,” Elio said with a grin. “I feel safe with you,” he said placing his hand on Oliver’s. “And I’m not rushing we’ve been kissing for three weeks now, I just thought maybe we could touch...?”

Oliver grinned and leaned into him. Elio felt so good underneath him. He kissed him hungrily, Elio kissing him right back and then Oliver got up on his knees, unbuttoned his shirt quickly and undid his belt and undid his pants and quickly pushed them past his hips.

Elio pushed up and Oliver felt his erection through the thin fabric of his boxers.

“You sure?” Oliver asked. He would wait forever for Elio. Forever.

“Yes,” Elio said and Oliver slid his hand in the opening of his boxers and stroked him.

Elio reacted beautiful. He moaned and arched his back. He began to move his hips against Oliver. He pulled him down and kissed deeply again. Oliver tightened his hand around Elio and after some quick, needy thrusts he came. Oliver watched his face.

I’m so in love, he suddenly thought.

Elio opened his eyes and blushed and gave him a shy smile. Oliver kisses his lips. “How was that?” He asked.

“Really good,” Elio whispered in return.

 

* * *

 

It was the night before opening night and Elio was nervous. Oliver asked him how he wanted to spend the night and they had ordered Chinese and were now going to cuddle on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and watch tv. It’s what Elio wanted and Oliver was going to give him anything he wanted.

He came back to the couch, bowl of popcorn in hand and settle beside Elio who snuggled into him. They had a nice fluffy throw on them. Oliver kisses Elio on the head, soft curls tickling his nose. Oliver had never had to have a talk about anything with Elio. Once they had gone back to rehearsals, Elio had said that maybe they should just not let anyone know at work. “First, none of their business if we kiss and second I don’t want anyone spreading rumors or feeling weird so maybe if we just act as alway?” 

“Good call!” Oliver had said nodding. He wasn’t surprised, Elio was the most mature 19 year old he had ever, ever met.

 

“What are we watching?” Oliver asked.

“Oh some show about Ancient Greece,” Elio said. “Ever wander what it would be like to live back then?”

Oliver made a face. “No. They had slaves and I have the feeling with my physique I’d be a slave.” Elio nodded in thought as he ate some popcorn. “You nervous about tomorrow?” Oliver asked.

Elio smiled at him. “If I was with anyone else, maybe, but with you beside me, I know I’ll be ok,” he replied. 

Oliver felt like he could melt inside.

 

* * *

 

Opening night came and went and it was wonderful. Oliver felt as if he was acting and singing and performing better all because of Elio. He was so wonderful, he felt he brought out the best performer in him. 

Once the show was over, they met Elio’s parents backstage. Oliver wasn’t too close with his parents and they weren’t there for opening night but he didn’t care. He had Elio. Annella and Samuel hugged them both and praised them.

“Oliver, we have reservations for dinner, to celebrate, you’ll be coming right?”

Oliver grinned. “Yes, of course.”

They went off, Samuel driving. They were all talking and the excitement of the show was still coursing through Oliver’s veins.

Annella’s cellphone rang and she answered. “Oh hello dear! Yeah we’re on our way to dinner with Elio and his boyfriend,” she said.

Oliver felt his eyes widen. He felt Elio stiffen beside him. They looked at one another. Annella kept talking but they were no longer listening. Boyfriend. “Boyfriend?” Oliver asked softly. His heart was pounding.

Elio searched his face with wide eyes. “Is that ok?” He asked.

Oliver didn’t even have to think about it. “It’s ok,” he replied. He loved how happy Elio looked. He reached over and held Oliver’s hand. They laced their fingers together.

 

* * *

 

The run of the show was incredibly successful. It was a sold out crowd every night and they were then asked about taking the show the following year to LA. Oliver had been in talks to do another show and now he wasn’t sure what to do.

 

Elio was on the couch watching a show about Vikings. “God! Imagine being a poor villager where they pillaged!” Elio said as Oliver plopped down beside him with the popcorn.

“They weren’t all bad,” Oliver said. “The majority of them were just farmers and good people.” He sighed and leaned back on the couch.

Elio glanced his way. “What’s wrong?” He asked and rubbed Oliver’s chest.

“I had been in talks to do another show, so now I have to choose between it and our show when it goes to LA.”

“Oh!” Elio said. Oliver watched his expression. He looked over at Oliver and took his hands in his. “Whatever you choose, Oliver, I’ll be so supportive of you. I’ll go watch your show as soon as possible. It would be nice if we could make it to each other’s opening night.” 

Oliver grinned. He felt a huge weight off his shoulders. Part of him had been worried about how Elio would react. He didn’t want to upset him, but hearing his words felt wonderful. Oliver felt so lucky to have found him.

 

* * *

 

They celebrated Christmas with Elio’s family and then he turned 20. Oliver gifted him a book of Shakespearean Sonnets. Some nights, Elio would read them to Oliver. Oliver would watch him in amazement.

“You’re so amazing,” Oliver told him as he wrapped him up in his arms and kissed him all over his face.

 

* * *

 

Their show was slated to end the first week of February and Oliver wanted to do something romantic for Elio for Valentine’s Day. He decided to call Annella to makes sure she was ok with what he wanted.

“Hello?”

“Annella hi, it’s Oliver.”

“Oh! Hi! How are you Tesoro?”

“Great, thank you,” Oliver answered. “So, well I wanted to surprise Elio for Valentine’s but I wanted to run it by you first?” 

“Oh?”

Oliver took a deep breath. “I wanted to take Elio to France. Spend a week on the French country side. I know he’s 20, but I just wanted to make sure you were ok with it, if you’re not -“ 

“Oh, Oliver! You know Sam and I love you! You’re like a part of the family. That is incredibly romantic. If Elio is ok with it, then of course we are too!”

 

* * *

 

Oliver looked at Elio’s face as they pulled up to the hotel they were staying at. It was a beautiful building. It was an old manor from the Renaissance that had been converted into a luxurious hotel. Oliver had thought Elio would find if romantic. He did. It showed.

“I have died and gone to heaven!” Elio said. Needless to say, Oliver was over the moon. He had dated some girls early on until he realized he was into men and he had had some meaningful relationships, but nothing compared to how Elio made him feel. He felt... complete.

They arrived in time for dinner and the hotel had a lovely restaurant and bar. The atmosphere was warm and relaxed and Elio and Oliver had a very lovely dinner. 

After dinner they went to their room, which was wonderfully luxurious. Elio read all the travel brochures so he could figure out what he wanted to do tomorrow. He asked Oliver what he wanted to do. “Anything you want. This is my gift to you,” he said and Elio beamed and leaned in and kissed him.

The following day Elio said he wanted to do a tour nearby. They went and the tour took them to several renaissance buildings in the are. They were wonderfully preserved and had art and some period clothing. “Imagine living in one of these homes back then!” Elio whispered.

“I know,” Oliver said grinning.

They stayed out the whole day and had dinner elsewhere and then made it back to their hotel as the sun was setting. Oliver took a quick shower and changed into the silk pajamas Elio had bought him for Valentine’s. He loved them. Then Elio showered and Oliver sat on the bed reading, waiting for Elio. 

He looked up when Elio began walking around the room. He was in a bathrobe and rummaging around their bags.

“Looking for something baby?” Oliver asked.

“I got it!” Elio said and Oliver nodded and went back to his book.

Elio continued to walk around until he climbed on the bed and crawled towards Oliver. He looked up. Elio was still in his bathroom. He took the book Oliver was reading and put it on the night side table and opened up his bathrobe. He was nude underneath. He rubbed his hands on Oliver’s chest as he swung a leg over him and straddled him.

Oliver’s heart was racing and his mind spinning. Elio’s skin was milky smooth and pale and just gorgeous.

“Oliver,” he said softly, staring into his eyes. “Make love to me.”

Oliver stared up at him. He ran his hands up Elio’s thighs and stopped at his hips. He rubbed his hipbones with his thumb in circular motions. “Are you sure you’re ready? I didn’t bring you here to pressure you.”

“I’m sure,” Elio said lowering himself onto Oliver’s lap. “And I don’t feel pressure. You have never ever pressured me. You have been nothing but loving and patient and warm and wonderful.” Elio grinned and shook his head and Oliver saw him wipe tears from his eyes.

“Oh why are you crying?” Oliver asked concerned.

“I’m just so happy!” Elio said. “This, you...” He sighed. “It’s like a fairy tale come true and I don’t want it to ever end.”

Oliver gingerly took hold of Elio’s face and brought him closer, kissing him. It was soft and gentle and delicate. That’s how he wanted to treat Elio. With the utmost care and love because he was the best thing that had ever happened to him. “How... um,” Oliver chuckled nervously. He couldn’t believe he was feeling nervous. “What position?” 

Elio blushed and Oliver loved it. “I really want to ride you,” he said in the softest on whispers and Oliver’s body reacted accordingly.

“That is so fucking sexy,” Oliver said with an intensity in his eye Elio had never seen before.

Oliver quickly undressed and he disrobed Elio. He ran his hands over his body, caressing him gently. Elio closed his eyes and leaned into Oliver, enjoying his gentle touches. They began to kiss. They were soft, careful and full of love. They both felt it. 

“Oh!” Oliver said suddenly. “We don’t -“ 

“We do,” Elio said with a shy smile.

Oliver looked and saw Elio came prepared. The thought of Elio planning this ahead made him feel really good. Elio was so mature. He loved this about him so much. “Ok,” Oliver said, kissing him down his jaw. “I think though you should lay down while I prepare you?”

Elio blushed and nodded. He laid on his back. Oliver began by kissing him, all over. All over his beautiful, perfect body. He then took Elio in his mouth. He sucked the way he knew Elio liked. Oliver always paid attention. Elio had confessed to him that this was the first relationship he’d had that he was sexually active in. Knowing this, Oliver always paid close attention to whenever he was doing anything to Elio, that way he would learn what he liked.

As Oliver kissed and caressed and him, Oliver thought about the fact that for the first time in his life, someone else’s happiness meant more than his own. For the first time giving someone happiness made him happy. He loved this. He took Elio into his mouth. Elio gasped and grabbed Oliver’s hair. Elio loved doing that, tugging at his hair. It was a good indicator how much Elio liked what was being done to him.

Oliver didn’t suck him too hard, Elio didn’t quite enjoy that. Instead he moved his tongue around, caressing his erection. He pulled him out and circled his head with his tongue and then went back to pleasing him. Once Elio’s body was pleasantly warm and his limbs looked relaxed, Oliver poured some lube on his fingers and began to work Elio open. He was gentle and careful, knowing this was his first time. 

Elio was a heavenly vision. Every moan he made, Oliver felt, sunk into his skin and spread warmth in him. Once he was done, he went up and kissed Elio’s mouth. He wrapped his arms around him and held him tight. “Don’t be nervous,” Oliver whispered. “I won’t hurt you.” 

“I am nervous but not because I’m worried you’ll hurt me,” Elio confessed softly. “I’m nervous because I don’t want to be... bad at it.”

Oliver grinned. He kissed him softly. “You are already the best ever,” he whispered and kissed him deeply. As they kissed, Oliver sat up and lifted Elio, who wrapped his legs around Oliver. Oliver position himself, back leaning against the thick wooden headboard. 

Elio was panting, his pulse racing. He got up on his knees and Oliver lined their bodies up. Oliver firmly grabbed his hips. Elio slow lowered himself on Oliver, guided by Oliver’s strong, firm hands. It was an indescribable pleasure for both of them. They held each other a moment and then Elio began to move his hips. Oliver groaned in pleasure. Nothing had ever felt this good. Elio looked right into Oliver’s eyes.

He remembered as a boy of 13 looking at him on stage and instantly falling in love with him. It was a boyhood crush, much like any other 13 would have on an older cute neighbor, or like in Elio’s case, a celebrity. He had followed Oliver’s career and had seen all his interviews and then, the summer he graduated high school and his manager had come to him with wonderful news. 

“My husband has heard through the grapevine that they’re making ‘I Remember Everything’ into a musical! Elio this could be your chance!”

Elio had talked to Andre, the musical’s director and he had been hired on the stop. And then he waited months until finally the word came of who Elio’s love interest in the musical would be. Oliver. He looked at him now. “Oliver,” Elio moaned and he leaned in and kissed him as he raised and lowered his body on him. He moaned at the gentle ache of his body. It felt good. So good. Oliver was slowly fucking the ache away and Elio had never felt so complete. It was as if then world had shifted and he sudden saw it so clearly. Oliver was it.

Elio leaned his head back and he pulled Oliver into him, relishing in all he was feeling and experiencing. “My angel,” Oliver said. “I love you so, so much.” 

Elio was shocked but only for about a second. “I love you too,” he said. ‘I’ve loved you for so long,’ he wanted to say. He wrapped his arms around Oliver tighter. “So much,” Elio moaned. “I love you so much!”

Oliver grabbed his hips and moved Elio’s body faster and he thrust up harder. They were fucking harder. Oliver reached down, stroking Elio’s erection. It only took a few strokes and Elio came between them. Oliver couldn’t hold back and pushed up and pinned Elio to the bed, fucking him until he came. 

They laid there panting. Oliver looked down at Elio. “I love you,” Oliver repeated.

“I love you,” Elio replied. Truer words had never been spoken between them.

 

* * *

 

The talks between Oliver’s management and the other play fell through so Oliver reprised his role in ‘I Remember Everything’ in LA. He and Elio got a home for a few moths while they did their play there. Right before the play started, it was Oliver’s birthday. He turned 27. He had never been happier.

The play did wonderful as well. It was sold out every night and Elio and Oliver were interviewed countless times. Everyone asked about their amazing chemistry but they didn’t publicly say anything about their relationship. They wanted to keep it for themselves only.

The holiday season came and went and Elio turned 21. The play was to end at the beginning of January and Elio was already looking for other shows to act in. Oliver already had some auditions lined up. They went back to New York.

Interestingly enough, Elio’s manager called him and said he had an offer for a film. It was a romantic comedy. Elio decided to talk to Oliver about it.

“Sound like fun!” Oliver said.

“You think so?” Elio asked.

“Yeah! Do you have to audition or is the part yours?”

“It’s mine!” Elio said.

“Take it baby! Why not!”

Elio decided to take it. Summer came and Oliver did his new play. He turned 28 and the play ended in September. After they took off for San Diego where Elio was to shoot his film. They left NY in October and were in San Diego for six weeks. Oliver visited every so often and he was proud and amazed at Elio. 

The film wrapped and Elio and Oliver decided to stay an extra week. They went site seeing and tried lots of restaurants. On their last full day there, Oliver prepared a surprise for Elio. He had contacted a local ranch and arranged for them to go out and ride horses for the day. He thought it would be romantic and he knew Elio had never ridden a horse.

Elio was beside himself. He threw his arms around Oliver. “How do you always just do the most amazing things for me?!” He asked.

Hearing him say this made Oliver so happy. “Baby, you give me so much joy, I just want you to be as happy as I am.”

“Oliver,” Elio whispered. “I’ve never been happier.”

 

* * *

 

In the years that followed Oliver’s career in musical theater took off and Elio’s film career also did very well. He guest stared in some tv shows and filmed three more movies, all which were critically acclaimed. Also, they had finally come out with their relationship which was nice in its own way.

Oliver was happy and so proud of Elio. The only thing that was a damper was all the traveling Elio did. While Oliver was usually based in NY and sometimes LA, Elio was flying all over the world. They tried to be together as much as they could and Oliver understood if Elio couldn’t be there for an opening night. But it was still hard.

Oliver had also began to think of maybe taking a year break. He was now 31 and Elio 25 and Oliver wanted to marry and wanted to have at least a year for themselves. He wondered how Elio would think about that. He decided he would bring it up for Elio’s birthday, which they had made plans to spend together.

Christmas came and went and they again spent it with Elio’s parents, in Italy this time. The day after Christmas, Elio and Oliver took off for Belgium. They had never been there and Oliver thought it would be a nice change.

 

They arrived at their hotel and they were tired so they ordered room service and stay in their room for the night. Elio, as always was reading up on the area and seeing what they could do in the next few days. Oliver decided to take a chance and voice what he had been thinking.

“So, last three years have been great but hectic.”

“Yes,” Elio said grinning.

“I was thinking of taking a year off. We have enough money.”

“Really?” Elio asked. He was sitting beside Oliver, legs criss crossed looking at his phone. Oliver was gently rubbing his back.

“Yeah,” Oliver said looking up at him and giving him a hopeful smile. “As great as it’s been I do hate going weeks without being with you, you know? I know it can’t be helped while we work so that’s why I thought it would be nice to take a year off or so, to really just be with each other.”

Elio furrowed his brow. “I have two movies coming up next year.”

Oliver nodded and looked away. “Maybe the year after?” He looked back at Elio who had a perplexed look on his face. Oliver sat up. “You don’t want to do you?” 

Elio furrowed his brow. “I didn’t say that.”

“No but you’re thinking it, I can tell!” Oliver was angry.

Elio looked at him in shock. In all the years they had been together Oliver had never once been angry with him. “I know you’re extremely talented Oliver, but I didn’t know you were a mind reader.”

“This isn’t a joke, Elio!” Oliver said, deeply hurt. He pushed off the bed and walked out into the seating area of their hotel room. Elio, panicked, he walked after him. 

“I’m not making a joke out of it, are you kidding me? Do you know how much I love you?” 

“Well you have a funny way of showing it!” Oliver retorted.

Elio stared at him wide eyed. “We met when I was 19, Oliver. I’m about to turn 26 tomorrow. You’re going to tell me in all those years, I’ve not shown you how much I love you?”

Oliver knew he had, but he was deeply hurt and angry at the thought that he was trying to do whatever it took to be with Elio, to have time to enjoy a life together, and he felt Elio wanted no part in that. Oliver shook his head. “A year off won’t kill you! The movies you’re filming this coming year won’t be out until the year after. You’ll probably have press anyway, you’ll be around, ok? Your fans won’t miss you! What I’m saying is we have more than enough money to have a year off together. To...” Oliver stopped. He almost said to get married but he was feeling too hurt to bring it up now. He hasn’t expected for the conversation to go this way.

“I’m not opposed to that,” Elio said. “It’s just this is the first time we’re talking about it and you expected me to just make a decision in a matter of seconds. Taking a year off work isn’t something you decided to do in a matter of sec-“

“It is when the person asking you is the person you claim to love!” Oliver said angrily.

Elio felt anger surge in him this time. “Do not act like I’m saying or implying you aren’t the love of my life Oliver! I’ve thought of no one since I was 13! Even before we met, even when I was just a fan of yours, your presence in my life was huge and I’ve never even entertained the idea of anyone else!” 

Oliver closed his eyes. He knew it was true. But he had done all he could all these past years to make sure Elio felt how much he cared for him. Hadn’t he showed him enough?! 

“Fine,” Oliver said. “Fine. Take your time. Whatever. Do what you want.”

“Why are you acting like this?!”

“Because to me nothing is more important than you!” Oliver yelled. 

“It’s the same with me!” Elio yelled back. “But I’ve signed on for the next two films! I can’t just walk off the projects! I’m legally bound at this point!” 

“I said fine to that! Do those films! I meant later! But you know what? Forget it. Ok? Forget it. Here I was trying to think of how to be closer and spend some real time together. Just waking up daily beside each other for a year but -“ 

“No, buts! Why would you think I don’t want that?!” Elio was getting a lot angrier.

“Because your knee jerk reaction wasn’t me. It was your work.” Oliver turned his back on Elio.

Elio stood dumbfounded. How had it come to this so quickly? “Oliver, I -“

“Save it,” Oliver said. Elio stared as Oliver went back to their room and began to pack up.

“What are you doing?!” Elio asked.

“Going home.”

Elio stood there frozen. “What? It’s my birthday tomorrow! You’re really -“

Oliver looked up and the look on his face made Elio stop talking. “From your 20th birthday on, I’ve been right by your side, making sure each year is wonderful and amazing and I’ve been giving and giving and all I focus on is making sure you are happy. I don’t ask for anything, Elio! Haven’t you noticed?!” 

Elio swallowed. “I thought I was keeping you happy too. I guess not.”

Oliver furrowed his brow. He was happy. He just wanted more. Maybe Elio wasn’t ready.Oliver shook his head and kept packing. He was done talking. He just needed to get away. The pain in his chest was too much. He grabbed his wallet and passport. He decided to leave his clothes. He didn’t care. He slipped on jeans and his shoes. 

“You can’t go!” Elio said grabbing Oliver by the shoulders. Oliver got up and started to walk to the door. Elio pulled on his jacket, but physically he was no match for Oliver. 

“I can do whatever I want. As can you. If you ever decide you want more let me know.”

Elio stared, eyes wide as Oliver walked out their hotel door.

 

* * *

 

Oliver had flown back to New York. When he got home he was physically and emotionally exhausted. He didn’t want to think about anything. He only wanted to sleep. So he slept.

 

Oliver was in bed with all the lights off. He wasn’t sure how many days he had been home. Two? Three? He thought back of how that conversation with Elio had gone. He had been wrong hadn’t he? Had he been? Every time he felt he had over reacted he saw the look on Elio’s face whenever he had suggested the year off and it was so obvious it’s not what Elio wanted and it just hurt Oliver so much. Why was time off so bad? Was Oliver not enough for him?

He suddenly heard the lock on the front door click. He pushed up and looked behind him. He had been laying on his stomach. 

“Oliver?” It was Elio. Oliver was overwhelmed with feelings. He lay back down on the bed. He closed his eyes, trying to keep himself from crying. He heard bumping sounds and he knew Elio was bringing in their luggage. He then heard him walking towards their bedroom. Oliver laid still. He saw the bedroom light come on. He felt Elio crawl on the bed.

He felt him kiss his cheek. “Hey, baby,” he said softly. Oliver couldn’t hold back and began to cry. “Hey, don’t cry, my love,” Elio said softly and wrapped his arms around him. Elio held him and kissed and caressed him. Finally, Oliver had calmed down. He wiped his face and Elio kissed his forehead. “That was the first time we ever fought,” Elio said softly.

Oliver didn’t answer. Elio sighed.

“Are you still mad at me?” 

“I don’t know,” Oliver said. “I’m just... hurt.”

“Please don’t be,” Elio said. “The thought of you hurting hurts me so much.” 

Oliver blinked and buried his face in Elio’s chest. He was feeling so much. It was hard to speak. “I love you so much,” he said softly. He swallowed. “Maybe too much.”

He felt Elio tense. “What do you mean?” 

Oliver let out a breath. “Ever since we met and grew close... it’s like I have forgotten me. I don’t...” Oliver shook his head. “I was me before then we met and suddenly I’m another me. Happier, fuller, better me but...”

“But?” 

“I’m... maybe I’m too dependent on you. I don’t know.”

They laid in silence for a while.

“You don’t think I feel the same way?” Elio asked.

Oliver furrowed his brow. “Why would you?”

“Oliver,” Elio said softly and pushed up onto his left elbow. Oliver looked up at him, eyes red rimmed. Elio caressed his cheek and gave him a sweet smile. Oliver couldn’t help but smiled back. Elio had the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. “I just turned 26 and I’ve been in love with you since I saw you on stage when I was 13. When we met, you turned out to be even a more amazing person than all my fantasies combined. And then, for reasons I still don’t comprehend, you fell in love with me.”

Oliver looked into Elio’s beautiful eyes. 

“Oliver, I’ve been in love with you for half of my whole life.” He blushed suddenly. He looked into Oliver’s eyes. “It’s only been you. Ever. My whole life, it hasonly ever been you.”

Oliver let the words sink in. He leaned back into Elio’s chest. 

“I could never imagine my life without you,” Elio said softly.

“Me neither,” Oliver said. 

“Then lets remember that, always,” Elio said.

“Ok,” Oliver relied.

They held each other a while. “Do you...” Elio began.

Oliver laid there and waited. “What?” He asked.

“Just thinking,” Elio said. “The way we met, it really did feel like destiny didn’t it?”

Oliver smiled. He loved the though. “Of course it was,” he replied softly. “We’re meant to be.”

 

* * *

 

In the months to come, life was busy, as usual but Oliver felt calmer. Elio told him he did want to take time off and had never been opposed to the idea and Oliver apologized for over reacting. 

“I can’t believe I missed your birthday,” Oliver said regretfully.

“We have tons of birthdays to come to make up for it,” Elio had said to him smiling.

 

Elio was gone six weeks for a movie and come the summer, Oliver had a play he did for three months. He was contacted for a play for the following year. He didn’t take it. He told Elio he was taking the year off.

“For me,” he told Elio. “To just regain focus and clarity of mind. No pressure on you, I’m truly doing it for me because I want to.” 

Oliver turned 32 that summer and mid September Elio was off to film another movie.

“So it’ll just be four weeks,” Elio said. “How about you come the last week and we stay for a while. We’ve never been to Spain.” 

Oliver thought that sounded wonderful.

 

Three weeks later, Oliver was taking off for Spain. He had never been there and was excited to go. He went with Elio on set the last 2 days he worked. Then they had a wrap party. As Elio and Oliver went to the venue, Oliver was surprised at how luxurious it was. 

“Wow! This is nice!” Oliver said.

Elio grinned hearing the surprise in his voice. “Yeah, I requested this place,” he said.

“Oh you can do that?” Oliver asked with a chuckle.

“When you’re the star of the film you can do whatever you want,” he said with a cute wink.

Oliver laughed. They went inside the venue and were ushered upstairs, to a rooftop terrace. Oliver was surprised at the amount of people he saw. “How many people were in this film?” 

Elio grinned. “I invited a few other people.”

Oliver shook his head and his eyes widened when he saw Annella and Samuel. “What are you guys doing here?!” He asked.

He was busy talking to them he saw some other people he had worked with. People were coming up and hugging him. Whenever he asked what they were doing there, no one gave him a straight answer. He looked around for Elio to ask him what was going on.

Suddenly Wes, the director of Elio’s movie had a microphone on a platform there. “Everyone hi!” He said. “I normally give a little speech here but Elio has a few words of everyone!”

Everyone quieted down and Oliver watched Elio take the microphone. Elio looked as beautiful as always. He grabbed the microphone and looked out at the crowd. His eyes locked with Oliver and he gave him a gorgeous smile.

“Hi everyone!” Elio said. He took a deep breath in and out. “I’m so incredibly happy you all were able to make it. We are here for one reason only today,” he said. “Oliver.”

Oliver stood frozen as everyone around him cheered. He felt himself blush.

“Oliver,” Elio began. “You are the most amazing anything that has ever happened to me in life. Since the first time I laid eyes on you at the age of 13, I fell madly in love, not even knowing what love even was back then.”

Oliver couldn’t believe this. He felt tears sting the corners of his eyes. 

“You are the best person I know. You are my lover. My best friend. My everything. I have been so lucky that I’ve shared all these years with you and I want to share more. I want to share forever with you.”

Oliver felt his breath leave his chest. He couldn’t believe what was happening.

Elio jumped off the stage and reached into his pocket as he walked to Oliver, the people around them parted. Oliver could hear other’s sniffling.

“Oliver,” Elio said getting down on one knee. “Would you do me the absolute honor of spending the rest of your life with me and marrying me?”

Oliver didn’t have to think about it twice. “Yes!” He said.

Elio jumped up and jumped on Oliver. This was the best day of their lives... so far.

 

* * *

 

It was almost a year to the day of the proposal. They had married in June in New York then in July had had another ceremony in LA for the friends that couldn’t make it to New York. They decided then those were the best days of their lives. They spent summer there and celebrated Oliver’s 33 birthday. Then in September they took off for Italy.

Elio had spent time in a villa his family had in Italy and he couldn’t believe he and Oliver had never been. 

“So where is this place?” Oliver asked as they were flying.

“Northern Italy. A small town called Crema,” Elio said. He took Oliver’s hand in his and brought it to his lips, kissing his wedding band. Oliver loved this, of course, small lovely gestures like that always made Oliver feel loved.

From this point on, Elio had cleared his schedule so he and Oliver could spend the whole year together. Elio had always meant to try to do it, he was just looking for the perfect time. Elio had always meant to ask Oliver to marry him and take time off, just like Oliver had wanted to.

Oliver had also shared his ideas of maybe having his own place, to be a vocal coach. “You could do more than that,” Elio had told him. “You’re the whole package of course.” Oliver had liked hearing that and it kept coming to his mind as his manager kept mentioning rumors of shows coming up. “And can you imagine if we do it together?” Elio had said with his cute little smile.

They landed in Italy and Oliver looked around in amazement as they made their way inside the villa. “My god this is beautiful!” Oliver said. 

Elio was so happy Oliver liked it. An elderly lady and man came out to greet them. “Mafalda! Anchise! Questo è Oliver, mio marito!”

Oliver was warmly greeted and hugged and they were helped with their bags. Oliver looked around and couldn’t believe the place. He felt he was in heaven. 

They got to the master bedroom and Oliver looked around. “You never told me how long we’re staying,” Oliver said suddenly looking at Elio.

“As long as you like,” he said as he walked over and wrapped his arms around Oliver. He smiled up at him. “I am the happiest man on earth,” Elio whispered.

“You can’t be. That’s me,” Oliver replied.

Elio grinned up at him. “Not many people get to marry their soulmates you know,” Elio said caressing his face. Oliver felt as if he could melt.

“I know,” Oliver replied wrapping his arms around Elio’s waist. “I knew it since I met you. We belonged together. I felt a pull to you. I felt you were it. We were it.”

Elio looked up at him lovingly. “You make me so happy.”

“You make me just as happy, baby,” Oliver whispered. They kissed. “We should keep coming back here every so often, for our wedding anniversaries.”

“We should,” Elio replied. “We should retire here.” 

Oliver laughed. “Elio you’re never going to retire. You’re going to be making movies for like 50 more years.”

Elio grinned and chuckled. “Maybe,” He said with a shrug.

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll be right by your side baby.”

“That’s all I’ll ever want,” Elio said looking up at Oliver.

“You got it,” Oliver said. “Forever.”

“Forever,” Elio repeated leaning in and giving his husband a kiss.


End file.
